


Six Feet Over

by mirrorwaves



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Canon Compliant, Consent is Sexy, Crack Treated Seriously, Dom Sakusa Kiyoomi, Dom/sub, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Minor Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou, Minor Original Character(s), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Porn With Plot, Post-Canon, Rope Bondage, Safe Sane and Consensual, Shibari, Slow Burn, Sub Miya Atsumu, at least emotional slow burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-21
Updated: 2020-12-15
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:06:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 27,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26584849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mirrorwaves/pseuds/mirrorwaves
Summary: Everyone has secrets. Learning Atsumu's feels like flying to Kiyoomi.Or: The one where Kiyoomi and Atsumu meet at a bondage workshop and learn things about each other they both never expected.
Relationships: Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi
Comments: 53
Kudos: 254





	1. Perfectly Reckless

**Author's Note:**

> Hello my dear readers,
> 
> this is my first multi-chapter fic since forever, the first one in this fandom. The first time I've written SakuAtsu. The first time in almost eight years writing anything smutty. But one evening in a discord channel with a few other people gave me the idea and I want to share this with you. There will be nothing explicitly sexual in this first chapter, but things will ramp up here and there will definitely be explicit sexual content down the road.
> 
> Please beware: This is a work of fiction, so don't, under any circumstances, use this as your only source of information on BDSM. If you find yourself interested in anything, do your research before trying out anything. Most practises these characters will engage in have serious risks, if you don't know what you are doing. I am writing this for purely for entertainment purposes. Remember: Always play safe, sane and consensual.
> 
> Special thanks to [Siobhan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/IetjeSiobhan) for her great input in regards to rope bondage and her ideas while brainstorming, as well as to the wonderful folks on the SASS discord. Y'all are awesome!
> 
> Also, this work is very much inspired by [Terminal Curiosity](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1921516) by [favespacetwink](https://archiveofourown.org/users/favspacetwink/pseuds/favspacetwink) and [moonlumie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonlumie/pseuds/moonlumie). Their series is awesome, go read it, if you haven't done so already.

Kiyoomi has no clue how he got roped into this. It’s friday evening and instead of staying at home, doing the laundry that needs to be done and relaxing with a good book and some music, he’s getting ready to go out. The only social events he’s voluntarily partaken in for the last months are their team outings, when they go to some izakaya and spend a few hours getting tipsy, but besides that, there has been little exposure to the outside world. After finishing college and moving to Osaka, he was too busy settling in, learning to get along with his teammates – especially with the three loudest people he knows – and playing volleyball professionally.

But when Bokuto asked him to go to that workshop with him, he couldn’t deny his curiosity. Even though that was probably the most awkward conversation he’s ever had, he couldn’t say no to Bokuto’s puppy eyes.

“Please… It’s a surprise for Akaashi and Hinata said Kageyama wouldn’t be okay if he went there and… like, you said you were intrigued that one time when we were out.” Sakusa can’t deny he likes Akaashi, Bokuto’s boyfriend and he also can’t deny that one time he got a few drinks too much and told the others how he likes to read smutty romances and how that one scene where the main character got tied up and reduced to a sobbing mess got him very hot and bothered. Luckily, most of his fellow team members were drunk enough to not remember that particular conversation. Bokuto wasn’t, though, and Kiyoomi is quite sure he isn’t above blackmail. The flyer Bokuto handed him a few days ago looks inconspicuous enough. A simple black background with a few dates for meet-ups and workshops on one side, a short text and a logo on the other. Bokuto has circled two dates. ‘Beginner’s Bondage Workshop’, and the open meet-up next Saturday. He still has a few minutes until he has to leave, so he looks up the directions on his phone once again. He really doesn’t need to. The workshop has been on his mind ever since he agreed to go and even though he is really nervous – so many people he doesn’t know, so much potential for human contact he doesn’t want – he is still looking forward to it.

He has just left the house and made his way to his car when his phone rings. It’s Bokuto. “Yes?”

“Omi-kun, I’m really really sorry… I can’t go tonight, Akaashi’s here and he has a really bad migraine and I really don’t wanna leave him alone.” Kiyoomi stops dead in his tracks. Imagining going there with Bokuto was bad enough. Alone? He doesn’t know if he can handle that. He hates to admit it, usually, but in social settings he’s really glad for his extroverted teammates. He likes to hide in their shadow, let them handle conversation.

“It’s fine”, he hears himself saying. “I’ll just… go alone then, I guess."

“Do that, Omi-kun. You have to tell me everything! Akaashi’s birthday is so soon, they don’t have another one before that and I really wanna surprise him with…”

“Bokuto-san, I really don’t want to know the details. I’ll relay whatever I learn today to you, but please… don’t tell me what you plan to do with Akaashi-san.” He hangs up and drops into the driver’s seat. He’ll be fine, he tells himself. It’s a workshop. That’s formal enough. Just think about it like another college class, he tells himself.

Actually, it isn’t that bad once he gets there. Nobody tries to touch him, the group that’s already there is small enough. He introduces himself, a tiny woman in yoga pants and an oversized T-Shirt hands him an empty nametag and a pen. There are only four other people, two girls who seem a bit younger than him, probably in the early stages of college, and a couple in their late thirties. Their nametags tell him the girls are named Mika and Ayumi and the couple’s tags show him they are likely married, as they both state the same name, Matsumoto.

“Here, write your name here and put it on and then sit down… we still have a few minutes and we’re still missing a few people”, yoga pants smiles. Nobody bats an eyelid, when he pulls out some antibacterial wipes and cleans the pen, before using it to scribble his name on the nametag. He hands the pen back and puts the tag on his shirt and then goes to sit down.

The table is a large, rectangular one, a beamer on one end projecting a windows homescreen on the opposite wall. He chooses a place next to the beamer, across from the two girls. “Hello”, the one – Mika, her nametag tells him – says and smiles at him. “Nice to meet you, Sakusa-kun. You alone here?” Her forwardness makes him a bit anxious and he’s glad for his facemask that hides most of his facial features.

“A friend roped me into this and then cancelled last minute… so yes, unfortunately.”

“Roped you into it… well, that’s one way to put it”, Mika grins and the other girl next to her tries to stifle her laughter by hiding her face in Mika’s shoulder. “We’re together”, Mika states and the arm wrapped around Ayumi’s waist shows that clearly. “Ayumi is a total newbie, so I thought it wouldn’t be wrong to learn everything properly.”

Mika reminds him a lof of Bokuto and he’s suddenly very disappointed his teammate isn’t here. They would have gotten along wonderfully. Kiyoomi relaxes a bit, as she doesn’t ask any intruding questions, just pulls him into some easy smalltalk. Well, she does most of the talking, but he answers ever now and then. Nobody has recognized him from volleyball so far and he is very happy with that. Nobody needs to know that last years collegiate MVP, now the Black Jackals’ new ace, visits bondage workshops in his free time. He can very much live without that kind of gossip about him. Another couple comes in a few minutes later and yoga pants looks at the clock on the wall.

“Okay, my assistant is a bit late, but we’ll start with the theory anyway so let’s begin with a short round of introductions. Please tell us your name and how you would like to be addressed and explain your previous experiences with Bondage, if you feel comfortable with that. My name is Yotsuba Sachiko and I’ve been doing these workshops for almost five years now. Mika, do you want to go next?”

“Yeah, of course. So, I’m Nakagawa Mika, but you can call me Mika-chan, and I actually have quite a bit of experience with bondage, mostly in getting tied up, though. Not that much with giving rope. I’m here with my girlfriend. She’s a newcomer.” She gestures to the girl next to her, who takes a moment before speaking. Sakusa realizes Mika’s hand resting on her leg and squeezing lightly. It’s a cute gesture that makes him wish he had someone like that, too. Ayumi introduces herself with the barest minimum of words, then the older couple follows. They are indeed married, both complete beginners and wanting to ‘spice up their marriage’. Kiyoomi makes an annoyed face behind his mask. That phrase reminds him too much of the really bad erotica aimed at middle-aged women.

Then all eyes are on him. Just a simple introduction, that’s easy. Even if he has none of his extroverted teammates next to him who can get him through this. Just like in college, he reminds himself and straightens his shoulders. “My name is Sakusa Kiyoomi”, he says. “I wanted to come with a friend, but he can’t come so I’m alone here. I hope that’s no problem.” Yoga Pants – Yotsuba-san – smiles brightly. “Not at all… my assistant can pair up with you when we practise. He should be here any minute now.” Kiyoomi nods and sinks back into his chair.

“Do you have any experience?” Yotsuba-san asks and Kiyoomi shakes his head, unwilling to elaborate on his sexual exploits of the past. She smiles again and then the last couple is introducing themselves. Just as the guy opens his mouth though, the door flies open. A guy stumbles into the room in sweatpants and a black hoodie, a beanie on his head…

Kiyoomi recognizes that beanie. Miya has one that’s the exact same shade of ugly orange. The guy bows to Yotsuba-san, a hushed apology through harsh breaths, voice too low for Kiyoomi to clearly hear him. Then he turns towards the participants and Kiyoomi freezes.

“Hello, my name’s Miya… OMI-OMI?” His voice cracks and the stupid nickname comes out as a high screech.

Oh, how much Kiyoomi hates that nickname. Kiyoomi tries to disappear by slouching deeper into the chair, but to no avail.

“Whatcha doin’ here?” Miya is staring at him with wide eyes.

“Oh, you know each other?” Yotsuba chirps. “Wonderful. His partner couldn’t come today, so you can pair up with Sakusa-kun. Now, would you be so kind and get the ropes, while I handle the theory?” With these words, she shoves Miya out of the door again and opens a PowerPoint on her laptop. Hopefully Miya gets lost on the way and doesn't come back.

Yotsuba-san walks them through the schedule for today. Some basics on consent and its importance, then different materials and safety, and then they are supposed to pair off and practise some knots on each other. Kiyoomi has trouble controlling his breathing. While he’s fairly comfortable in Miya’s presence on court, he has the tendency to keep himself at a distance at their social gatherings. Miya is loud and obnoxious and where Hinata is all sunshine and smiles and Bokuto is an idiot with a heart of gold, Miya is… aggressive in his loudness. Assertive. Annoying more often than not. They’ve known each other since high school and back then he had loathed Miya. By now, his antipathy has faded away, but they still butt heads often enough. So, of all people he doesn't want to meet here, Miya is just about the worst possible one.

He can barely concentrate on Yotsuba-san as she walks them through some ground rules. The three color system he is already familiar with, and what she tells them about consent strikes him as basic human decency. Always having a pair of good scissors that can cut through the rope nearby seems sensible. The theory part, the different materials and how to handle them and the pros and cons is actually interesting, and he manages to not think about Miya being here for about three seconds.

Then his nemesis stumbles back into the room, balancing a big box in his arms. A deep green rope dangles over the edge and when Miya sets the box down on the table, Kiyoomi can see a bunch of other colourful ropes.

“Thanks, Miya-kun… sit down, I’ll just finish this part and then we’ll get into the practical part.” Yotsuba-san smiles at him; Miya drops onto the nearest empty chair and Kiyoomi feels the need to get the fuck out of this room. Instead though, he grinds his teeth and tries very hard not to look at his teammate.

Who is at a bondage workshop.

As the assistant instructor.

Miya Atsumu is into BDSM, a voice in the back of his head states and files that away under ‘probably important’ and ‘possible blackmail material’. Miya Atsumu is into BDSM and he’s staring at Kiyoomi.

It’s difficult to focus on whatever Yotsuba-san is talking about, while Miya is staring at him with big eyes. But somehow he still manages to follow most of what’s happening, his eyes only occasionally straying away from the diagrams Yotsuba uses to show them some knots.

“Okay, now it’s time for what you all came here!” Yotsuba-san’s voice is bright and chipper as she closes the presentation. “Come here and get some ropes and a pair of scissors and then you’ll get to practise. Make yourself comfortable and don’t be afraid to ask if you have any questions. I’ll demonstrate something, and then you'll get to replicate that on each other.”

Mika immediately bounces over to the box of ropes and grabs a bright pink one, then a blue one and a pair of scissors from the box Yotsuba-san has placed on the table and then pulls her girlfriend over to the sofa tucked near the window. Slower, but nevertheless excited, the younger couple follows her lead. The Matsumotos’ are a bit more reserved and Kiyoomi is still sitting in his chair, frozen. He very much wants to disappear right now.

But life has other plans for him and, a length of black rope in his hands, Miya strolls over. At least he has lost that hideous beanie by now, Kiyoomi thinks. Miya flops down on the table and places a pair of scissors next to him on the table, looking down on Kiyoomi.

“So… Guess I’m ya partner fer this?” he asks, a wide grin on his lips.

“It seems so”, Kiyoomi forces out. His voice sounds even snappier than he intended to, but Miya just laughs.

“Didn’t think ya would go to events like this”, he says and trails his fingers along the length of rope.

“Well, now you know. Shall we do what we are here for?” He just wants to get this over with and go home. Fuck his fantasies and all his kinky erotica he’s read up until now. He’ll never touch them again. In the background he can hear Yotsuba-san's voice, she's probably explaining something, but Miya is so infuriatingly close he can't focus on anything else.

“No need ta be so prissy, Omi-Omi.” Miya’s grin grows even wider – how is this even possible? – and he holds out the rope. “We’ll just have some fun.”

Kiyoomi will never acknowledge that he blushed in that moment. Luckily his hair and face mask hide most of the places where he blushes, but he is still burning with embarrassment. But then, in a surprising show of concern, Miya’s smirk disappears, replaced by a serious expression. “Ya know how important consent is. So… ya know, I won’t touch you if ya don’t want that. If ya that uncomfortable with me, ya can join one of the other groups. But if ya wanna, I’ll show ya everything. The ropes get washed before every workshop. I won’t tie you up if ya uncomfortable with that idea. But for whatever reason ya here, ya wanna learn and I’ve been doin’ this for a few years now.”

He’s surprisingly considerate, right now. Kiyoomi expected him to tease him the whole evening and annoy him to no end. But he obviously has at least some professionality and he has found it right now. For a moment, at least. Then the grin is back.

“So… ya wanna tie me up? Or should I do you?”

Kiyoomi doesn’t have to think long.

“I want to tie you up”, he says. As he states it like that, bluntly, he realizes the idea actually sounds not too bad. Tying up Miya – who spent the whole past year annoying him to no end and teasing him on every possible opportunity – sounds shockingly good. Getting tied up by anyone – Miya especially – sounds like something he can live without, probably. Miya just grins and lifts his arms to tug off his hoodie.

“Wha…”

“I don’t want all that fabric bunching up. Stop lookin’ like that, ya eyes are fallin’ out.” Miya throws the hoodie casually to the side and sits down on the table, his legs spread so the chair Kiyoomi sits on is right between them. He drops the rope into Kiyoomi’s lap.

“Let’s practise with hands. They’re the easiest part to tie up. But first, some basics.” He looks expectantly at Kiyoomi, who is totally fine, thank you very much. Miya Atsumu is sitting on a table in front of him, legs spread so Kiyoomi sits between them. In nothing but sweatpants and a tight-fitting black T-Shirt. Nothing about this is just like another college class. At least they aren’t touching. Yet.

Carefully he picks up the rope and drags it through his fingers. It feels surprisingly soft, maybe a bit worn out even. There is a certain roughness, but much less than he expected. He tells Miya as much.

“Yeah, they are quite old and they get washed a lot, so they’re super soft. If ya buy one, it’ll be a lot stiffer. Takes a while to get it nice and soft. But when they do, they get weaker and ya must be careful. No suspension with old ropes.”

Suspension? Is that something Miya does? He sounds experienced, Kiyoomi thinks. But that’s to be expected, isn’t it? After all he’s technically an instructor here. Instead of thinking too much about what’s going on, Kiyoomi tries to focus on learning.

Miya keeps the professionality, for now at least, and shows him some knots. Carefully, he explains their different purposes and usages. Kiyoomi follows him, ties some knots into the piece of rope in his fingers and unties them again. Miya is watching closely, following every move of his fingers.

“Ya got some nimble fingers there, Omi-Omi”, he grins and leans forward a bit. He’s so close it should be uncomfortable, but surprisingly, it isn’t that bad. “These hands are good for somethin’ besides spiking my tosses it seems.”

Kiyoomi snorts. “You’ll regret teaching me all this some day”, is what comes out of his mouth, when he opens it for a sassy return and he can feel his ears burning again. Why does he sound like he’s flirting?

Miya just laughs. He’s always laughing, like this is his natural habitat and he’s completely at ease. Kiyoomi desperately wants to wipe that laugh off his face.

“So… ya got the basics down, let’s start with the fun part. Remember, we have some scissors here. Always have them ready. Ya never want to risk anything and things can go bad really easily. Don’t ever hesistate to cut someone loose, if they are uncomfortable and you can’t get them free easily. Ya can replace yer rope, but people are irreplaceable.” He looks at Kiyoomi with a surprisingly solemn expression.

“Of course…”, Kiyoomi just replies. He knows that there are risks with almost every kind of kink and he has no intention of actually harming someone. Miya smiles a surprisingly genuine smile and Kiyoomi can’t help but look at him. He looks better when he smiles like that. Softer and more vulnerable.

Miya just looks at him for a moment and then tears his gaze away. Back to the rope in Kiyoomi’s fingers. “Okay, enough of the serious talk. Back to the fun.” Miya puts on his usual grin. “I’m gonna show the two base techniques. They are really simple, but ya can do a lot with just these two. The first is the one column tie. That’s the thing ya want to use if ya tie ya girlfriend to ya bed. I mean, there are other ways, too. But that one works well for that.”

Miya holds out one hand.

“First, ya find the middle and fold the rope in half.”

Kiyoomi follows his instruction, his head still spinning on the part with the girlfriend tied to a bed. Doesn’t Miya know he’s gay? He’s never made a secret of anything, but he’s never explicitly had this big coming-out to anyone either. He just never cared about it. But right now, he has to fight the urge to tell Miya. Not now, not here, there’s no reason, he tells himself.

“Then, ya wrap the rope around the arm – or leg or whatever – twice. Always keep one or two fingers between the skin and the rope, you never want it to be too tight.”

He gestures for Kiyoomi to do as he said and without even thinking about touching another person, he follows his words. He grabs Miya’s wrist and wraps the rope around it twice. It feels strangely intimate even if they are in a room full of strangers. He can feel Miya’s pulse under the finger pressed flush against his skin. This feels… good. He can’t think of another word to describe it. The feeling of Miya just yielding and letting him tie the rope around his wrist feels electric.

He focuses on Miya’s words, guiding him through the tie step by step and then he has some black rope wrapped around Miya’s arm, holding the loose end in his hand. Images run through his head he can’t use right now, and he takes a few deep breaths.

“Looks good”, Miya says. He has his hand lifted so he can inspect the tie. “A bit wonky, but that comes with practise. Ya did a good job.” He gives the tie a few tugs, puts a fair amount of pressure on the ends and Kiyoomi tries very hard to focus on anything but the way the strong muscles under the tanned skin move. “Always try if the knots hold. Ya never want the rope to tighten, when ya pull on it. So always test before putting actual pressure on it.”

Miya looks at him and their eyes meet. It’s the first time they really look at each other and Kiyoomi shivers, when he sees a smouldering heat in Miya’s gaze. It’s as if he actually enjoys this.

“I don’t have a girlfriend”, is what tumbles out of his mouth. The second time this evening his brain short-circuits and does nothing to filter his thoughts.

“So why are ya here then? Just curious?”

Miya works on untying the rope from around his wrist and looks away from him and Kiyoomi scoots back a few inches.

“Something like that. Bokuto wanted to come as well, but he couldn’t.” Miya raises his eyebrows.

“Why the fuck would ya go to a bondage workshop with Kou? Thinkin’ about a nice kinky threesome with him and Akaashi?” His voice is curious. No hint of judgement. Miya seems completely serious.

“The fuck do you think about me, Miya?” He almost chokes on his own spit, trying very hard not to cough. “Bokuto just asked me to come along, he wanted to go here and didn’t know who else to ask.”

Miya grins and the rope drops back into Kiyoomi’s lap. “But ya here and he’s not. So he can’t be that interested.” He curls his wrist for a moment and then holds out his arms again. “But you are, so let’s move on. The two-column tie is next. That’s the best one if ya want to tie someone’s arms or legs together. Or arms to legs. Like… ya can get really creative with this. If ya just remember these two ties ya can already do a lot of stuff.”

Miya’s feet dangle a few inches off the ground, he’s still sitting on the fucking table and Kiyoomi has a really hard time to not think about that particular fact. He knows, when he goes home later, he’ll think about the look of black rope on Miya’s tanned skin. He carefully follows every instruction and soon Miya’s wrists wrapped in the rope, tied together tightly. It’s beautiful, Kiyoomi thinks, and it reminds him a bit of the wristcuffs that his ex back in college had. But better, so much prettier and he can’t help it if his fingers ghost over the knots a bit longer than strictly necessary. The position Miya’s in now, his hands tied in front of his body, his legs still dangling from the table besides Kiyoomi’s, makes his back arch and the tight shirt rides up a bit, exposing a sliver of skin above his sweatpants. There’s a slight hitch in Miya’s breathing and when Kiyoomi looks in his face there’s a flush on his cheeks.

“You are enjoying this”, he states, his chair scraping across the floor as he scoots back. His voice doesn’t tremble. Definitely not. And the way he’s grabbing on to the fabric of his jeans has nothing to to with the layer of sweat on his fingers. Or the rest of his body. Or the way his heartbeat has picked up an uncomfortably quick pace.

“Of course. I like gettin’ tied up, why do ya think I’m here. Sachiko uses me as her ropebunny to show the techniques, usually. She’s really good. But I prefer to get tied up by pretty guys.” Kiyoomi chokes and this time, he can’t help but cough. Miya throws his head back and laughs, that asshole.

“Yer so easily flustered, Omi-kun. It’s ridiculous.” Miya looks him straight in the eye. “I’m serious, though… yer a pretty guy. And…” Miya pauses, twists his arms in a way that seems quite uncomfortable as he lifts his wrists to eye level, inspecting the tie from all sides. “I would let ya tie me up again. This looks good, really good for ya first try.”

He holds his wrists out. “Now, let’s see how quick ya get this open. Ya need to know how to get these knots open just as well as ya tie them.”

Kiyoomi’s fingers are a bit clammy from sweat, as he fiddles with the knots, trying to get them open. It takes him a few tries, but then the rope loosens and Miya’s hands are free again. Miya twirls his wrists, moving his fingers for a bit. “Good. Really good. With these two ties ya can do a lot. Like… ya can use the two-column tie and tie the wrists to the ankles and yer partner can’t move much. Or ya tie their wrists behind their back and use the one-column for the feet, tie them to the bed or a chair… just get creative.”

That his brain can do very much. Pictures float through his head as Miya talks and Kiyoomi finds himself thinking about a certain blonde setter in his bedroom. Or his living room. He has this plush vintage chair, all dark wood and red upholstery. Miya would look good tied to that chair. Miya swings his leg to the side and jumps off from the table.

“Be right back, just gonna talk to Sachiko for a moment.” Then he leaves Kiyoomi, sitting there with the rope in his hands and too many ideas in his head. When he came here he expected nothing besides a bit of useful input he can use if he ever finds himself in the position where he has a partner with whom he can try out some things. His lack of experimenting in the last months – almost two years, he realizes - wasn’t due to hesistancy or lack of interest, but mainly due to the fact that he has no interest in One Night Stands and he hasn’t had a long-term partner since his final year in college. Not necessarily a relationship, he doesn’t want one right now, but… well, if he’s honest something described by “friends with benefits” would probably the best fit. He isn’t looking for love, but someone to have sex with and to try out some things. Things like the ones Miya has hinted at.

Yotsuba’s voice pulls him from his thought and he looks up, just to see Miya standing next to her in front of the room. “The knots we’ve taught you until now are simple, but they offer a lot of possibilities. But I’m going to show you something a bit more elaborate now, to pull everything together.” She holds a long piece of rope in her hands, a good bit longer than the one Kiyoomi has right now. “Come a bit closer, so you can see what I’ll be doing on Miya-kun here.”

Reluctantly, Kiyoomi stands up and chooses a free chair close to where Yotsuba-san is standing. Miya looks excited, which doesn’t really surprise Kiyoomi. After all, he said he likes getting tied up. In front of other people… that just fits Miya, he thinks. She folds the rope in half and then starts by wrapping it around Miya’s chest.

“Tying arms or legs together or to furniture or something is fun”, she explains. “But it gets really interesting, when you have something to pull everything together. I am going to show you a simple chest harness now. It’s very versatile and can be combined with both of the other ties you’ve learned tonight. With these three things, you have a solid foundation on which you can try out things. Be careful of course and always be mindful of your partner, when giving rope.” She looks up at Miya. “Miya-kun, your color?”

“Green”, he answers without hesistancy. She nods and then continues walking them through the knots, the way the rope has to be wound around the body, until a simple pattern of crisscrossing lengths of rope adorns Miya’s upper body. It frames his broad shoulders and pectorals, and even though Miya is still wearing his T-Shirt underneath, it’s tight enough to not leave much to the imagination.

“Always be careful with harnesses. Rope around the chest and shoulders can easily restrict the receiving partner’s breathing. So make sure to check if they are okay. Miya, can you breathe? Tell me your color.”

“Ye, I’m fine. Can breathe. Green”. His voice comes out a bit rough and Kiyoomi realizes he has his eyes closed. Like he is completely at ease with the situation. Miya doesn’t complain, he becomes pliant unter Yotsuba’s hands and lets everything happen. He looks content and she turns him around so they can see the back of the harness. All the lines of rope come together between his shoulderblades, where a few knots hide the end of the rope. Kiyoomi can’t deny it. In this moment Miya looks absolutely perfect like this and he wouldn’t mind replicating all these things on this body, without the annoying clothing that obscures his vision of thse muscles.

“If you want, you can leave it like that. It looks good as a purely decorative bondage. But if you want to, you can easily integrate some actual restraints. Miya-kun, color?”

“Green.” His voice is softer than Kiyoomi is used to. He can’t believe how many new facets of Miya he gets to see tonight.

“Can I tie up your hands?” Miya nods and then Yotsuba proceeds to fold his arms behind his back.

“I am going to use the one-column tie around both wrists and tie the loose end to the back of the harness”, she explains. With nimble fingers, she demonstrates it and the length of rope gets wound around the back of the harness. “The beautiful thing about this”, she says, her hand resting on Miya’s back. “Is that you can easily adjust how restrictive you want this to be. Right now, it’s fairly loose.”

Demonstratively, Miya wiggles his arms. There is a fair bit of movement, and even though he cannot get out, Kiyoomi can’t help but think how satisfying it would be to have him fully restrained. Yotsuba-san’s fingers unwind the knot fixating the arms behind his back and then she yanks the rope tighter.

“Or you can do it like this. Color?”

“Green.” Miya’s voice shows how much he likes this. The knot gets tied and the tight binding forces Miya’s chest out, displaying the strong muscles in his upper body even better. Miya is a bit shorter than him, a bit shorter than most on the team actually – besides Hinata and Inunaki, obviously – but he’s solidly built. Not as ridiculously muscled as Bokuto, but he’s broad and strong and the image of this strong man submitting to him is incredibly arousing.

It takes Kiyoomi a few seconds to realize where his thoughts are wandering, and he forces them back into the deep recesses of his mind. He can think about these things later. Or, preferably, never again. Now he has to just get through whatever remains of this workshop. Yotsuba-san gives them all time to study the rope around Miya, then she starts to untie him. “Now, go back and practise with your partners.”

She starts watching them, as they fumble with the rope and Miya comes back to him, walking slowly.

“Ya liked that?” He pushes a length of rope into Kiyoomi’s hands. “Ya have been starin’.”

“I can’t deny the appeal of seeing you tied up like that.” Fuck it, Kiyoomi decides. Snarky remarks that err on the side of flirting are all he’s capable off right now. They always banter like this. It’s nothing special.

“So, ya payed attention?”

Kiyoomi grabs Miya’s shoulders and forces him to stand upright, shoulders back. “Color?” he asks. He’s going to show Miya that he’s got this..

“Green. Yer a quick study, Omi-Omi.” His hands still a few times as he has to think about the way Yotsuba-san did things, but it doesn’t take long, and he’s fabricated an acceptable-looking harness around Miya’s chest. It’s not as perfect as Yotsuba’s, but he’s quite happy with the result, nevertheless.

“Oh, Sakusa-kun, this looks good. Are you alright, Miya?” Yotsuba-san stands next to them. Her eyes check out the harness critically.

“Ye, I’m perfectly good. Omi-Omi is taking great care of me.”

Oh, I will, Kiyoomi thinks and immediately blushes. God, he is so grateful for his facemask. This whole ordeal is turning his braincells into a mushy mess.

After the harness and a few final words, though, the workshop is finally over and Yotsuba invites them all to come to the open meetup they hold on a biweekly basis. Kiyoomi files it away in his brain, he will maybe check it out some day. Right now, he just wants to get home and never think about this evening ever again.

The other participants gather up their belongings and get ready, a few of them exchanging some words. Kiyoomi is already half out the door, when he gets ambushed by Mika.

“Ne, Sakusa-kun… I didn’t know you and ‘Tsumu were friends.”

“We aren’t. We are…” Teammates? He doesn’t want anyone to know he’s a professional volleyballer. “We know each other from work.”

Mika laughs. “That must be awkward.”

Kiyoomi smiles and shrugs. It’s awkward as hell and he hopes he’ll never think back to this evening ever again. Not likely, though. The image of Miya in this tight shirt, sweats, and rope will be burned into his retinas for a long time.

“Ne, Mika-chan… why are ya bothering Omi-Omi?” Miya throws an arm over the girl’s shoulder. She gives him a light jab against the ribs and laughs.

“I’m just making small talk, Tsumu-chan. You and Sakusa-kun know each other from work? What a coincidence!”

Miya looks over at Kiyoomi and – is that gratitude in his eyes? Miya has obviously not flaunted his status as a professional athlete either.

“Yep, that’s right… ah, Omi-Omi, can you give me a ride home?” He doesn’t allow himself time to think, as he should. He doesn’t protest against that stupid nickname. He doesn’t tell Miya to fuck off. Instead, he just nods. Why can’t he say no to Miya? Why is he doing so many stupid things tonight?

“Me and Ayu-chan gonna head to the subway. See you around, Tsumu! Sakusa-kun, you have to come to our meet-up next Saturday.” Mika waves, then grabs her girlfriend’s hands. Ayumi gives them a short bow before she gets dragged off and Kiyoomi is alone with Miya.

“Let’s get goin’”, Miya says and stretches his arms. His muscles are, thankfully, hidden under that loose hoodie again but the small strip of skin between the seams of his hoodie and the sweats is still there and Kiyoomi has to force himself to look away.

“And, whatcha thinkin’?” Miya’s attempt at smalltalk is completely misplaced and Kiyoomi is, for the umpteenth time this night, eternally grateful for his facemask and the fact he never bothered to put it down. Miya seems to be not that happy about that, though.

“Ya know, I get why ya’d wear that mask in a room full of strangers. But we share a locker room and there ya don’t wear it either.”

“In the car”, he replies curtly. In the car, when he doesn’t have to look at Miya. When there are roads to distract him from the fact that, right now, he is seriously considering asking Miya for some more practise. When he has to grasp the fact that he actually enjoyed tying him up and would like to repeat that in a more private setting. Lika Miya’s apartment.

“Ya didn’t really answer my question earlier, Omi-Omi. Why are ya here?”

“I wasn’t aware of an obligation to answer.”

Miya rolls his eyes and buries his hands in the pocket of his hoodie. “Ya don’t hafta, obviously. I’m just curious.”

Kiyoomi sighs and makes his way out of the building and over to the parking lot. “Bokuto asked me to accompany him, because he wanted to surprise Akaashi. He cancelled, because Akaashi got sick and he wanted to stay with him.” Miya looks at him, eyebrows raised so far they almost disappear under the hair sticking to his forehead, messed up from whatever he’d been doing all day since practise.

“And ya still went… Ya can’t deny you were quite into it earlier.”

Kiyoomi can feel himself getting progressively more and more annoyed with Miya and the urge to tie him up gets simultaneously bigger and smaller. And accompanied by the urge to make him shut up.

“I never denied that. I am… intrigued.” He reaches his car and unlocks it with the remote, then pulls out a packet of antibacterial wipes. He passes it to Miya. “Clean your hands before you touch anything.” He makes himself comfortable in the driver’s seat and Miya sits down next to him.

“Address?” Miya tells him and he puts it in the navigation system. Theoretically he knows his way around Osaka by now, but sometimes, he still gets confused and he can’t exactly remember where Miya lives, so it’s the easiest to let the computer navigate. Then he can focus on getting his brain to kindly shut the fuck up, thank you very much. He’s not going to do anything with Miya. That evening will be enough fuel for endless situations of awkwardness with the team in the future.

“If yer genuinely interested, ya should really come to the meetup”, Miya says. He looks completely at ease with everything, as if this situation happens to him every day. “And bring Kou, we can show him what he missed today. So he still gets his birthday present for Akaashi or whatever he plans to do.” Miya is… actually right. If he’s curious about this whole thing and wants to explore this further, going to the meetup seems like a good idea. Nobody there knows Miya is a professional volleyball player, so they won’t know him, either. He can meet someone, ideally someone more experienced with this whole BDSM world and try out some things.

And not think about Miya all tied up in the process.

“Invite Bokuto yourself. And just teach him whatever he wants to know. I have zero interest in what he intends to do with his boyfriend behind closed doors and I am sure he won’t shut up about it.”

Miya laughs. “I don’t mind… been in the community ever since movin’ here after high school. It lowers a lot of barriers.” He grins. “Like getting tied up in front of a room of strangers and yer pretty teammate.”

He’s calling him pretty… not for the first time tonight. Fighting the heat creeping over his face, Kiyoomi grips the steering wheel so hard his knuckles turn white and focuses on the road.

Luckily, Miya’s apartment isn’t that far away. It’s not a big detour either and so he only has to endure a few more minutes of his rambling, before he basically kicks him out of the car. “Don’t mention all of this to anyone”, he tells him and Miya nods.

“If ya want ta. I mean, Kou knows it. But I won’t tell anyone else on the team. Thanks for the ride and good night, Omi-Omi.”

Then, he throws the door closed behind him with more force than necessary and the car shakes a bit. Kiyoomi takes a deep breath and lets his head fall back against the headrest.

“Fuck.”

His fingers are trembling, as he pulls up his own address on the navigation and his car slowly creeps out of the driveway in front of Miya’s apartment building. He desperately needs a good night of sleep. Luckily there is no morning practise tomorrow. More time to get his brain back in working order.


	2. Bricks I lay down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sakusa can't get the workshop with Miya out of his head. He suffers. A lot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew, this chapter was a ride. I had everything planned out neatly and then things started to happen and it grew and grew, until the word count was at almost 15k. That's when I decided this is getting out of hand. There is not much plot happening, we are still very much in the slow-burn part, but I promise... action will be happening.
> 
> And now, have fun with Sakusa dealing with the aftermath.  
> Thanks to Shiwi for being my emotional support and Moon for putting up with my semi-regular panicking during the editing process and cute doodles!

The next morning, when Kiyoomi wakes up, he wants to never leave his bed. Usually, he has no trouble getting up in the morning. Kiyoomi would consider himself a morning person, getting up at six or seven am without problems. But right now, he just feels the need to disappear beneath the covers again. He pulls the duvet up to his nose and buries his face in his pillow. That night’s sleep was… not as relaxing as he could have needed. Unsurprisingly, after that disaster that was the workshop. Yesterday evening is still fresh in his mind, the image of rope against Miya’s body. The image of Miya’s toned body, bound by that harness.

He definitely hasn’t jerked off to that after he got home. He just took a shower because he felt uncomfortable after being around strangers. He hasn’t thought about Miya’s muscles straining against rope binding him tight. He hasn’t spent an embarassingly long time in his shower.

“Who am I kidding”, he murmurs and closes his eyes. His pillow is soft and he can’t help but drift into that sweet space between being awake and dreaming. Images float through his head, of Miya finally shutting up, getting that grin wiped off his face and Kiyoomi feels himself getting hard, from that thought. “Fuck it”, he decides and wraps his hand around himself. He has definitely thought about how that harness would look without that stupid shirt Miya has worn yesterday. And he can’t help but imagine. He _knows_ how Miya looks. They are teammates, after all and he’s seen him in the locker room plenty of times, in various states of undress. It’s easy for his mind to fill in the blanks. His hand moves, quickly, efficiently and when he thinks about Miya on that chair in his living room again, he spills over his fingers.

Kiyoomi chokes back a moan, instead letting out a deep, annoyed sigh as he drags his body out of the bed and into his bathroom. He quickly washes all the evidence away and then decides to get dressed and do something. He’s still tired and could definitely need another round of sleep, but there’s no way in hell he’ll give his brain the satisfaction of thinking even more about Miya. Bad enough he’s jerked off to his teammate twice now.

Instead, he drags his body into the kitchen. A nice cup of coffee will wake him up, hopefully. A few minutes later, he has curled up in his armchair in front of his bookshelves, fingers wrapped around a cup of black coffee and a book on his knees. Maybe reading will put his mind off of everything. Reading and not looking at that stupid chair sitting next to his small desk. That chair with the dainty-looking, but surprisingly sturdy legs and carved ranks of dark wood that just invite him to thread some rope through them. He tears his eyes away, focusing on the book in front of him. It’s a hefty science fiction tome, one of his favourite genres, and usually he can get immersed quite easily. But today, his mind keeps drifting off. Every few sentences he has to stop and go back, because he missed something. His eyes keep wandering over the pages without taking in the words. By the time his cup is empty, he has only gotten ten pages further into his book and with an annoyed grunt, he puts in the bookmark and slams the cover shut. He places both the book and the cup on the coffee table and leans his head back.

“Fuck.”

He’s more into this whole bondage thing than he expected. When he said yes to Bokuto’s plea, he was mildly intrigued. He’s read his fair share of smut in the last years and of course there was the occasional kinky scene. He always was especially intrigued by them, but he hasn’t thought about it that much. With his last long term partner, back in his third year of college, he tried a few things. There were handcuffs involved, his boyfriend back then asked him to spank him, some blindfolds… nothing too extraordinary, Kiyoomi thinks. He definitely enjoyed it, of course. Would have tried more, his partner had also been up for it.

But then college had ramped up, with his final year and his schedule got demanding, with volleyball and academics and the upcoming graduation and they broke up. Since then, he’s been single and since he doesn’t care about one night stands, there hasn’t been much in the vein of “trying out things.” Now, though… He can’t deny he’s interested. If he’s really honest, the workshop had been kind of fun. Yotsuba-san seemed nice enough. Mika was extroverted, but respectful. And if he subtracts Miya out of the equation, he actually enjoyed the evening.

“Who am I kidding?”, he asks his bookshelf. “I enjoyed that. Even with Miya around.”

Unsurprisingly, he gets no answer. Just a shelf full of books he doesn’t mind anyone to see. (Not like one in his bedroom. The one nobody besides his ex-boyfriend ever knew about. Even Motoya has never seen the guilty-pleasure-shelf.)

Exasperated with himself, Kiyoomi runs a hand through his hair and lets out a deep sigh. He has enjoyed that whole bondage thing so much, he has jerked off with Miya in his head twice in the last twelve hours. That’s about as obvious he’s at least a bit intrigued as he can get. He blames it on the bondage itself. Miya was just… there and he got to tie him up, got to see him all wrapped in rope and that’s why his brain is clinging so much to the idea of his stupid teammate. He’ll just go to the meet-up next week. He’ll try to mingle with people and he’ll find someone he likes well enough. He’s quite sure he’ll be able to find someone who’s interested in… well, a casual relationship, he supposes, is what he wants. Someone who he’s comfortable around and who he can trust enough to try out some things. And, most importantly, who is not his fucking teammate. Friends with benefits.

He spends the rest of the morning on his tablet, doing some more research. Watches a few tutorials about other techniques and he can’t deny he’s really interested. Watching these videos doesn’t do much to turn him on, but he really likes the idea of having that kind of control over someone. His research takes him further, from purely bondage focused things into other areas. Sensory deprivation, orgasm denial, impact play… There is so much, so many aspects and kinks… These few hours of browsing the internet, stumbling from informational site to video tutorials to blog posts from kinksters show him how broad the term BDSM actually is. And how many things he’s read, heard, thought about already actually fit under that wide umbrella term. Kiyoomi can’t deny it, but he soaks in the information like a sponge. There are so many things that sound good and intriguing and he would really like someone he trusted, someone who trusted him enough to let him do some of this. And even if he won’t admit it to anyone’s face, would prefer if it didn’t happen, Miya’s face comes up in his brain every now and then. Miya’s face, in a mixture of bliss and pain. Miya’s body, adorned with rope and bruises. Miya’s muscles, struggling against the knots Kiyoomi tied.

(Maybe he jerks off a third time. Maybe he can’t keep that stupid chair out of his brain. Maybe he thinks about bleach blonde hair and a tongue that seems to be unable to stay in it’s mouth.)

When it’s time for afternoon practise, Kiyoomi has the feeling he has his head in the right spot. At least somehow. Enough to not think about all these stupid ideas ghosting through his head, when he sees Miya. He is one of the first to arrive, just like always, and gets changed quickly. Bokuto stumbles in, right as Kiyoomi pulls on his kneepads.

“Tell me, how was the workshop, did you learn anything interesting. Tell me! Show me what you learned!”

Kiyoomi sighs. So much energy and loudness in just one person should be illegal.

“Good morning, Bokuto-san”, he says, keeping his voice calm. “It was very educational, but I think if you want actual input, you should ask Miya instead of me. He knows a lot more.”

Bokuto’s eyes grow comically wide and he bounces over, flops down onto the bench next to Kiyoomi.

“Miya? As in… Tsum-Tsum?”

“How many other Miyas do you know?” Kiyoomi hisses. And immediately realizes how stupid that question is, since Miya’s twin brother has an onigiri shop just a few blocks away.

“Ehm… Samu, obviously. But you mean Tsum-Tsum? How do you know?”

Bokuto scoots closer, a lot closer than Kiyoomi is comfortable with. “Did you… ya know?” Bokuto wiggles his eyebrows suggestively and Kiyoomi feels the need to serve a volleyball straight to Bokuto’s face.

“Now, Bokuto-san, I did not fuck Miya Atsumu. Can you get out of my personal space, please.”

“Sorry, sorry!” Bokuto raises his hands in defense and scoots back a bit. Not far enough for Kiyoomi’s preferences, though, and so he stands up and takes a few steps. Even though he’s kind of used to closeness with his team by now, with certain people at least, Bokuto still has an annoying habit of creeping up into his personal space a lot closer than he actually wants him. He doesn’t mind Bokuto as a person, but his lack of understanding for the concept of respecting other people’s boundaries makes him taxing to be around. Luckily, he often drags his boyfriend with him and Akaashi knows how to keep him in check, so most of the time, Kiyoomi doesn’t have to deal with Bokuto suddenly being only a few inches away from him.

That’s one thing Miya is better at. Miya respects his boundaries. He teases and tries to rile him up, but Miya has actually never touched him without asking first.

“He was at that workshop, as the assistant of the instructor. He told me he has some experience. So if you want to know things to surprise Akaashi-san with, go ask him.”

Bokuto’s enthusiastic face drops and he looks almost bored by the unspectacular information he’s gotten. As if learning one of your teammates and friends is into kink is just something you learn everyday. Well, for Bokuto and his non-existent brain-to-mouth filter, it probably is nothing out of the ordinary.

“Oh… well, then I’ll ask Tsum-Tsum, I guess”, Bokuto muses and goes back to changing. Finally, Kiyoomi thinks and relaxes for a while, finishes putting on his kneepads, pinning his bangs out of his face, like he’s started to do for training.

Then, the rest of the team slowly meanders into the locker room and Kiyoomi gets swept away in the usual routines. Training will be fine, just like always. The laughter and the voices mingling create a familiar environment and Kiyoomi finds himself relaxing in the comfortable feeling of being where he belongs, as he ties his shoes. At least until the door flies open and Miya arrives. Late as always, but way more disheveled than usual he stumbles in and throws his bag on the nearest bench.

Please don’t let Bokuto shout something about the workshop through the room, Kiyoomi begs every god he knows about in his mind and then his eyes meet Miya’s. “You fine?” Miya asks casually and Kiyoomi forgets to breathe. His ears are burning and he can’t help but think about the rope on his body, when Miya lifts his shirt and exposes his body. A body Kiyoomi has seen often enough, but hasn’t thought about much. Until yesterday at least.

“Didn’t sleep that well”, he forces out through gritted teeth and before Miya can ask anything else, Bokuto bounces over to them, Hinata in tow. _Please, don’t get the shrimp in on this, too,_ Kiyoomi thinks. He can’t handle both ot them. He can’t decide, right now, if he wants to murder them for being a bother, or kiss them both, for interrupting what could turn into a very awkward conversation.

Kiyoomi likes Hinata. He genuinely likes him, he’s funny and always smiling and he has boundless amounts of energy that make it easy to get pulled into his pace. He’s reliable on court and nice company besides it. His teenage years, spent with Kageyama, have taught him how to deal with introverted people like him and even though the sometimes comes closer than Kiyoomi likes, sometimes holds out his hands for a high-five or jumps on his back, he’s generally the least annoying of the three loudmouths on his team. He still prefers the calm company of Meian or Barnes, but Hinata is very much acceptable company, most of the time. He doesn’t want him to also be in on whatever happened yesterday, though, because for all his positives, Hinata doesn’t know when to shut up. He talks a mile an hour and Kiyoomi sometimes wishes to gag him. In a completely unsexual way. Gagging Miya sounds like something he would probably enjoy. Gagging Hinata is something he sometimes wishes to do just to let his ears enjoy some silence.

“I’m out on the court”, he forces out and stands up with more force than necessary. His one shoe is still untied and he just barely manages to stumble out of the door without falling down.

Out of the mayhem surely ensuing in the locker room, he breathes in and bows down to tie his shoelaces. He allows himself a short moment of rest, before he straightens up and leaves the hallway, heading for the court. Leave the loudmouths to themselves, leave Bokuto and his untameable curiosity to Miya. He realizes he hasn’t even asked Miya, if it’s okay to tell Bokuto, he realizes. Probably an apology for giving out his secrets is in order, later. But on the other hand, Miya has told him to invite Bokuto to the meetup. Where he would have found out anyway, so it probably isn’t a big deal. He should still apologize. If he gets the opportunity.

He spends a few minutes bouncing a volleyball against the wall, practising his tosses. They are fine, nothing special, but if he has to, in a pinch, they do their job. Nothing compares to Miya’s tosses, though.

“Hey, Omi-Omi?”

 _Speak of the devil,_ Kiyoomi sighs internally. Miya strolls in, in his practise gear and a fucking smirk on his face.

“Woken up on the wrong side of the bed? Yer more pickly than usual.”

Kiyoomi gives a deep sigh, before he catches the ball in his hands.

“I’m fine”, he says. No need to tell Miya anything about what goes on in his head. He’s still trying to reconcile what he learned yesterday. Miya Atsumu, resident asshole, likes to get tied up. And probably a whole lot more, if the way he talked and acted is to be believed.

“That’s good. Just… ya know, yesterday was a bit weird and I don’t want that to affect the way we play. Kay?”

Stunned by so much… reasonable input, Kiyoomi just nods. He did expect teasing, joking, getting annoyed until he actually punches Miya in the face. Not a reasonable, calm talk.

“Of course. What you do besides the court is not my business”

Miya smiles… actually fucking smiles. Not one of his usual grins that promise he’s up to shenanigans or anything. Just a genuine smile. It makes him pretty.

“It could be, if ya want.”

Kiyoomi chokes and a violent cough escapes his throat. The volleyball drops from his hands and does a few sad bounces, before it stays on the ground, between them.

“The FUCK, Miya?”

Miya’s smile morphes into his usual grin, teasing and as if he’s planning something and then he starts cackling.

“Yer lookin’ so flustered it’s adorable, Omi-Omi.”

 _Adorable?_ Has Miya actually shown the audacity to call him adorable? Is he fucking serious? Gasping for air, Kiyoomi is at loss for words. For the first time in ever, he has no response to Miya. Just a desperate wish for this day to be over. Luckily, the rest of the team slowly trickles onto the court and the coach arrives and practise begins. Kiyoomi has been on volleyball courts long enough, has been a professional long enough to not get distracted by anything. He forces his brain to think of Miya as his tosses and his serves and the way he moves across the court and nothing else. It works, somehow, and they make it through practise without any problems.

Besides the fact, Kiyoomi blushes every time he sees Miya. And every time Miya looks at him, there’s this smirk on his face. He’s smirking and it’s annoying and Kiyoomi wants to wipe it off his face. When they are on opposite sites of the net, for a short practise match, he can’t help but miss Miya’s tosses, who are just perfect to hit. Match his ideal spiking height. Have the perfect angle. Velocity. Everything. There is nothing easier to turn into a point than Miya’s tosses. And their second string setter just can’t keep up. He’s a good setter, promising and talented, but he’s not Miya. Still, Kiyoomi slams the balls in the ground hard.

And if his spikes are all aimed at Miya, that’s purely coincidental. If his spikes get harder and harder and Miya looks elated at receiving them, that’s purely coincidental. Nothing out of the usual.

When practise is over, Kiyoomi has left out enough of his confused thoughts about Miya. Enough volleyballs slammed into the floorboards as a catalyst for his thoughts. Luckily, today is a relaxed day. Just this practise session and then they’ll go watch a recording of their next enemies last game. Talk some strategy. He manages to avoid Miya in the locker room. Takes his time while showering. He definitely doesn’t sneak a glance or two over to Miya.

Miya, who’s back is rippling with muscles with each move. Miya, who’s strong body looked really good in some rope. Miya, who he’s jerked off to three times by now.

He jerks on the handle, turns the water abruptly to cold and the drops hitting his skin feel like little icicles. They hurt his skin, but they also wash away every horny thought. Better for his hair, anyway, he reasons, while scrunching the conditioner into his curls. From the corner of his eyes, he can see Miya walking out, towel low on his hips and a fucking smirk in Kiyoomi’s direction. A glance over his body, that lingers just a moment to long on his ass.

Fuck.

Miya is playing with him. After that “I don’t want things to get awkward”-talk, that sounded like something Miya had picked up from anyone else (probably his brother, who all around seems to be a way more reasonable person than his teammate), Miya has decided to play a game. The rules are intransparent, but Kiyoomi has the impression the goal is embarrassing him into doing something stupid and acting flustered. Well, it takes two to play a game, Kiyoomi reasons and meets Miya’s eyes head on. Cold and levelled stare. It doesn’t matter that they are in the shower, with most of their teammates close. This is a battle for dominance and Kiyoomi won’t loose. Even though he’s buck naked and his hair is dripping conditioner over his face. Miya wants to coax a reaction out of him? He can get a reaction. It takes considerable effort to not oogle Miya, to keep his ganze purely focused on Miya’s face. Which has the nice effect of casting a soft pink blush over said face.

Miya is the one who breaks their eye-fucking. Not because he seems embarrassed though. There is a slight flush on his face, but it reminds Kiyoomi more of the way Miya looked when he got tied up, than when he’s ashamed of something. Instead, he casts his eyes down, looking up at iyoomi through eyelashes and wet bangs. Head slightly bowed, he looks almost… submissive? Kiyoomi snorts and turns his eyes away, focusing back on his hair. What the fuck is going on in Miya’s head, Kiyoomi wonders. Does he really try to… seduce, for lack of a better word, his teammate?

Luckily, the water is cold and Miya finally leaves the showers. And if Kiyoomi squeezes his curls harder than necessary while rinsing out the products, well… that’s purely coincidental.

He deliberately avoids Miya while getting ready. Sits down between Meian and Inunaki, when they take their places in the meeting room. In a place, where he definitely can’t see Miya while focusing on the recording. Their next game is important and watching their enemies is as well, so Kiyoomi can’t allow himself to get even more distracted than he already is. The Rockets are a scary opponent and he needs to focus on that. They watch the game between the Falcons and the Rockets and Kiyoomi focuses on that. The Rockets are scary and Kiryuu especially so. Kiyoomi hasn’t played him often, just once in high school and the few matches against the Rockets since he’s joined the Jackals. This game won’t be fun. Mostly for their recievers, he thinks. He isn’t looking forward to scooping up nasty spikes left and right, just to go and make points of every set Atsumu fucks up ever so slightly. Hinata is bubbling with excitement, but that shrimp is crazy. After the recording, Foster tells them about his plans for the game. They discuss tactics, the roster… Kiyoomi focuses on that and decides very hard to not. Think. About. Miya.

That plan goes mostly well, at least until he’s back home at his apartment. Alone and in the safety of his familiar surroundings, he lets out a deep sigh and drops down on his sofa, without even bothering to wash his hands first. He’s fucked. He’s genuinely, thorougly fucked and sadly, not in the literal sense. And it’s all Miya’s fault.

“Fuck.”

He thinks back and yes, all of Miya’s comments were very clear. Miya is open to letting Kiyoomi fuck him and Kiyoomi can’t help but admit that it sounds… not bad. Besides the fact that it’s _Miya_ fucking _Atsumu_. His teammate, who he doesn’t even like. Okay… didn’t like, he has to admit. They’ve played together long enough by now, they have reluctantly become something like… friends, probably. Not that Kiyoomi would ever admit that out loud. He lets his head drop against the cushions. He wishes desperately for this whole situation to just disappear into thin air. But alas – that doesn’t happen. If he wants to not think about Miya and sex all the time, he should stop doing it.

“Who am I kidding?” A deep sigh escapes his lips and he flops down, letting his legs hang over the armrest. His curls fall in his face and he reluctantly reaches up to touch them. They are still damp, the humidity in the air making airdrying then a task that takes several hours, and with an annoyed sigh, he gets up and drags his body into the bathroom. While diffusing the remaining wetness out, he stares at his image in the reflection and gives himself time to think about everything, get his confused brain into some semblance of order.

He’s curious. That much is obvious and he won’t even try to deny it. He wants to try out some of the things from the workshop in other contexts (and maybe also a lot of other things he’s stumbled upon during his research) and he obviously should do that with someone more experienced than him. He is a newbie and trying out things that can probably hurt someone with another person just as inexperienced as him seems like a recipe for disaster. Just picking up someone random is also out of the question. For once, because he hates touching strangers. He needs some kind of common ground first to feel comfortable around people. So just setting up an online profile and looking for someone that way is not at all appealing. Also, his research suggests he should try subbing first, anyway. He’s not to sure about that, though. It does sound more daunting than appealing, giving up control like that. That’s definitely something he would only do with someone he really trusts. He would definitely need someone he’s familiar with and comfortable around for that. And someone to talk everything through with.

The longer he thinks about it, the better it sounds to just go to the meetup. There will be strangers, of course, but it’s a casual setting in which he can meet new people, who share an interest in BDSM, and it’s casual enough so he can carefully assess some people, get to know them, without explictly stating he wants to get to know them so he can fuck them.

Yes, that will probably be the best course of action. Go to the meetup. Find an experienced sub he can try out some things with. Someone he likes, so he can build some kind of relationship with. Not romantic, but with trust and a base level of mutual attraction, respect. Someone he can talk to, someone who is willing to give him a bit of guidance, maybe. And until then, he’ll just lock everything away. There are bigger things to focus on. Like the upcoming game against the Rockets, like his book that’s still lying abandoned on his coffee table and that he wants to finish soon. He hates taking half-finished books with him, when they leave for away games.

Most of the week passes without anything noteworthy happening. They are all too focused on the upcoming game, on Kiryuu and how to beat him. It’s an away game and so Kiyoomi isn’t at home and even though he’s been a professional volleyball player for almost a year and spend his four years of college in the collegiate league, he still doesn’t like away games. He’ll probably never be really comfortable with them. They take him out of his comfort zone, his safe spaces he’s created for himself in Osaka. And even though he’s fine, he’s so much better than in high school, he’s properly medicated and his OCD is in control, his anxiety under wraps, away games still take a toll on him. They are exhausting and take focus and commitment and he has not a single braincell left to think about Miya and everything going on around him. And for a while, it’s actually relaxing to be able to focus on the important things. But in the end, he’s still antsy, annoyed and eager to return home.

Only when he’s back in the calming solitude of his apartment on Friday afternoon, the thinks about Miya again. Not voluntarily, obviously. He had hopes that he would keep out of his head, but as soon as his mind has calmed down, he had a long and relaxing bath and a nap and time to unwind from all the stress the trip had put on him, the thoughts return.

(Actually they returned when he was lying in his bath tub and he may or may not have jerked off to said thoughts.)

Now, he’s curled up in his favourite armchair once again. He has dropped a blanket over that stupid chair he can’t stop thinking about tying Atsumu to and tries to focus on the book he’s reading right now. He’s picked up one of his smutty romances, because his brain is still in relaxing mode and reading something lighthearted, that doesn’t demand a lot of attention, is probably the right call now. His phone vibrates in his pocket, tells him there’s a new message and Kiyoomi pulls it out, unlocking it.

The message is from Bokuto.

_HEY! HEY! HEY! Do you go to that meetup thing tomorrow? I’ll be there, Tsum-Tsum asked me to come and told me hes goin to show me what I missed during that workshop._

Rest in peace, Sakusa Kiyoomi.

He intended to go to that meetup. Alone. To meet someone. Not to see both Bokuto and Miya. Especially not Miya tied up, and that’s what he knows this will be.

Fuck.

_Yes, I intended to go._

His answer is clipped and simple, no use in denying the fact that he intended to be there. He’s interested and Miya knows that and if he wouldn’t show up there tomorrow, chances are good Miya will keep bothering him.

He drops his phone on the coffee table and folds himself back up in his armchair. He really needs his downtime right now and dealing with Bokuto, even if it’s just through text, sounds exhausting. He instead wraps himself up in a fuzzy blanket and picks up his book again. This time, it’s easy to focus (not that there’s much to focus on. It’s mostly light-hearted romance) and he actually has been able to breeze through a decent chunk of it, when his phone rings. He contemplates ignoring it for a moment, but it’s a call. Nobody calls him without reason. Probably it’s his mother, checking in on him. Ever since he moved out after high school, his mother started realizing she had a son and calls him every week now. It is indeed her name that shows on the display and he takes the call with a small smile on his face.

They chat for ten, maybe fifteen minutes. He tells her of the game, how he gets along with his teammates. She amuses him with stories from her workplace – a big fin-tech business where she works in HR, currently handling a bunch of interns – and their family cats, still roaming their big house on the outskirts of Tokyo. Talking to her makes his heart a bit lighter, takes away some of the worries he’s facing on a daily basis. They may have had their problems, when he was a teenager with still untreated and undiagnosed OCD and she was a working mother with a demanding schedule and an ex-husband who ran away to sleep with his secretary. But they are working hard on fixing their broken relationship, ever since he realized, somewhere in his countless hours with his therapists, that his mother isn’t at fault for anything. His last high school year was filled with tentative reconnecting and him moving out took away most of the pressure and allowed them to actually build a relationship with each other. Now, Kiyoomi feels comfortable to say he’s close to his mother. They call each other regularly, talk about their lives, and whenever he has some time, he visits her and stays for one or two nights. Tonight, their call gets cut short by his mother’s grumbling stomach and she laughs, excusing herself to get dinner. They say their goodbyes and he hangs up.

It felt good, but as soon as he’s alone again, is brain starts spiraling once more. Down a rabbit hole of horniness, Miya Atsumu and kinky sex. Kiyoomi lets out a deep sigh. He should put his phone away, read some more, go for a walk or any of these things in combination. He tends to ignore his phone, if he feels anxious and right now, he feels really fucking anxious. But he still sees the notifications in the top bar and he opens them and sees a heap of messages.

Some are team-related. Some are from his friends outside the team. Namely, one from Wakatoshi, congratulating him to the win they managed to snatch away from the Rockets (which conveniently also did good things for the Adler’s placement in the league), one from Motoya, doing much the same and asking for some time to catch up in the near future. These two are really the only people outside of the team he would truly consider friends. Motoya has been with him nearly every step of his volleyball journey, from the very beginning in elementary school, when he dragged Kiyoomi along for practice, until the tail end of high school, when they were both proud Itachiyama graduates, Kiyoomi with his scholarship for university and Motoya a contract with a Division 2 team. And now… they are both in top teams, meeting on the court every few months, and desperately try to keep their friendship going in between.

Motoya writes about how they have a few days off practise in two weeks, about how Suna wants to visit Osaka and Kiyoomi doesn’t think too long

_Come down as well, he writes. We haven’t seen each other in a while._

He still has practise, so no time to go up to Hiroshima to see Motoya, but he’ll definitely have a guest room ready for his cousin.

_Nice! I can only stay one night, though. Want to visit my parents. And say hi to auntie._

Then, there’s one more message from Bokuto.

_Can’t wait for Saturday, I’m sure the meetup will be fun. Should we go there together? I am driving, I can pick you up._

Ugh. The meetup again. He has almost managed to forget about it for a moment, but now that Bokuto has reminded him, Kiyoomi feels the urge to throw his phone as far away as possible. He replies with a quick thank you instead. He contemplates saying no, but it’s probably for the best if he just goes with the flow. Said flow involving Bokuto is not the best thing for his sanity. But if he gets dragged along by Bokuto, there’s less chance he’ll do something stupid. He can’t get drunk, he can’t randomly disappear, he can’t not go there. He’ll be forced to keep himself in check, as to not strangle Bokuto, which will hopefully keep his focus away from the real problem that’s going to be present.

One message is from Hinata, who bugged him about some extra practise, and he has nothing against that. Every reason to be out of the locker room when Miya changes is a good reason. Spiking volleyballs at Hinata sounds like a perfectly valid reason for that. And, as a positive side effect, it gets Hinata tired, which makes him a lot more easy to be around. So he says yes to some extra practise tomorrow, before their regular session.

The last notification is a slew of messages from Miya. Kiyoomi lets out a deep sigh and curls up again beneath his blanket. He dreads opening the conversation, but he still does, against better judgement.

_Ya know, wasn’t joking when I said what I do in the bedroom could be yer business._

_The workshop was fun._

Well, these are things Kiyoomi can’t deny. The workshop was kind of fun and that Miya isn’t joking had been more than obvious. He had just hoped that Miya dropped it, when he stopped obviously flirting over the last few days. But since he started thinking about the combination of Miya Atsumu and lots of rope the moment he was alone, who is he to judge, really? Against better judgement, he doesn’t just close the conversation and instead continues reading the long line of messages. First, they are kind of normal. A question if he’s coming to the meet-up on Saturday. A compliment for the spike that won them the game. A semi-suggestive comment about his freaky wrists and how they are probably good for lots of other things besides volleyball. They get progressively lewder, though, and progressively less coherent, suggesting Miya is anything but sober right now. Idiot.

_Yer hands… can’t stop thinjuin abt them since the worshop_

_I wanna get tiedd up by ya agaib but w less clotrhs pls_

_Sure ya csn spank someone reak good w that hands_

Holy. Fucking. Shit. He has expected a lot of things, but not Miya Atsumu, drunk texting him about how much he wants to get tied up and spanked by him. He quickly scrolls down to the end of the conversation, through messages of Miya being, for lack of a better term, really fucking thirsty.

 _Go to bed, sober up and forget this conversation ever happened, if you want to survive training tomorrow_ , Kiyoomi texts back and then mutes the chat with Miya. He throws his phone on the sofa with more force then necessary, watching it slide over the surface with dread, ready to jump and catch it before it drops down on the floor, but it stops right on the edge. With a deep sigh and burning cheeks, he sinks back into the pillows and curls up under his blanket. He tries his very best to banish the things he read right now from his brain.

He hates Miya Atsumu so much. And he can’t deny the fact that he’s really, really attracted to him. Not any longer. Not when Miya’s drunken lewd messages make him feel the need for a cold shower. Kiyoomi Sakusa is attracted to Miya Atsumu and he hates it so, so, so much. And the fact that Miya Atsumu looks really good tied up just adds to it. He’s attracted to Miya Atsumu and how the fuck should he deal with that? He’s attracted to Miya Atsumu and he prays to every single god he knows about for Miya to not talk about what just happened ever again.

He has only one goal right now and that is to find someone, who is not Miya fucking Atsumu, to try out some things and then probably forget everything. Because, even though he’s attracted to Miya, he’s never entertained that thought before that stupid workshop. So these two things are inevitably linked in his brain, Kiyoomi reasons. If he finds something to break that link, he’s sure about that, then he’ll get these two concepts seperated again and if that happens, he can finally forget his attraction to Miya again. They can go back to normal and then everything will be like it was before that stupid fucking workshop. Acting on this impulses he feels right now would be an idiotic idea. It would genuinely hurt their team dynamic and that would only bring more trouble and make the inevitable untangling of whatever an arrangement like that would bring them so much more trouble than necessary.

Instead of paying even more attention to Miya and his drunk tries at sexting, he buries his nose back in his book. He just tries to focus back on his book.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As usual, I very much appreciate your feedback, please leave comments with your thoughts or come scream at me on [twitter!](https://twitter.com/prnc3ssofHyrul3)


	3. Fall Apart without letting go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kiyoomi gets a deeper insight into the community. And into Atsumu's free-time activities.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This update shouldn't have taken as long as it did, but I had a lot of trouble with it and so I took a while off, let it rest, and then actually re-wrote large chunks multiple times. 
> 
> [Shiwi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/IetjeSiobhan/profile) is a godsent angel with patience for my random moments of forgetting how the English language works and the questions I sometimes throw at her. She's an amazing beta and a great friend, mwah!
> 
> This chapter is a looooong thing, so I hope that makes up for the long wait. Content warnings can be found in the end notes, if you want to be safe before reading. Beware, all characters are consenting adults that know what they're doing. If you get intrigued, do research (not fanfics, but actual informative resources!!!) and always stay safe, sane and consensual.
> 
> And now, have FUN!

Saturday comes earlier than Kiyoomi approves. At least Miya had the decency, over these last few days, to pretend all that drunk texting never happened and Kiyoomi definitely won’t bring it up. There’s things that are reckless and things that are just plain stupid. Poking at that bee’s nest definitely falls under the category _“stupid”_ and he won’t risk their careful, tentative balance right now. But now, it’s time to get ready for that meet-up (where he will meet Miya again, in a setting far removed from the security of their training routines) and he’s standing in front of his closet thinking about what to wear. _What do you wear to a BDSM meetup?_

Something casual and comfortable, probably? He thinks back to Yotsuba’s casual attire and Miya’s sweatpants. But he won’t leave the house looking like that; after all he’s not his teammates who usually look like they just came from the gym. Sweatpants are purely indoor clothes. So instead, he just puts on his favourite dark jeans and a simple black button-down. He can’t go wrong with that. It looks casual enough for a night out with some friends and dressed up enough to look like he cares. 

(And even though he hates to admit it: He cares. He cares about his appearance. There is a reason for the unholy amount of work he puts into maintaining his curls. Not like Hinata who just stumbles out of the shower, towel-dries his hair and leaves the locker rooms looking like he has an orange bird’s nest on his head.) 

Five minutes earlier than agreed upon, Bokuto sends him a text. He’s already here, waiting in the parking lot – that’s unusual, he must be really eager – and with a deep sigh, Kiyoomi pulls on his favourite leather jacket and grabs a facemask. No way he’s going to enter Bokuto’s immediate vicinity without the necessary precautions. 

When he slides into the passenger’s seat, Bokuto greets him with a bright smile, but he’s oddly jittery. Luckily his car is mostly clean, not exactly enough for Kiyoomi to be comfortable, but good enough for the short drive ahead of them. Bokuto talks the whole way, clearly trembling with both anxiety and anticipation, but Kiyoomi only half-listens. He tries his best to ignore the weird gut feeling he has, about Miya and everything else. Just focus on finding someone who you can see yourself building some kind of connection with, he tells himself. 

When they arrive at the presumed location, Kiyoomi is pleasantly surprised. It’s a small hole-in-the-wall pub, his subconscious fears of a suspicious place, some remote location, some dubious cellar dungeons – no matter how irrational - soothed. The pub seems completely normal, friendly even, and it’s actually open to the public now. It’s a place Kiyoomi wouldn’t mind going to with friends. If he liked going out at all, that is, and weren’t in the habit of only going out when he’s basically forced into it by his teammates. 

Kiyoomi wonders how a BDSM meetup in a public place like this works out. They can’t really be very explicit like that, can they? Bokuto is bouncing ahead, then stopping in front of the door. From the corner of his eye, Kiyoomi sees him texting someone and then looking up anxiously. Kiyoomi wonders if he should start a conversation with Bokuto, but he absolutely does not feel like it. Luckily, just a few moments later, Miya strolls out the door.   
(What a cursed day, Kiyoomi thinks, when Miya’s presence counts as luck.) 

“Ah, yer here. Come in, guys!”   
Kiyoomi wishes to perish immediately. Instead, he stares at Miya, while he follows them inside wordlessly. Bokuto and Miya start chatting at once and Kiyoomi has to admit he’s glad he has his teammates - _friends,_ a small, stubborn voice in the back of his mind corrects him – around. Yes, Miya and Bokuto are pests sometimes, but they are social butterflies and allow him to stay in the background as long as he wants to. With these two around, he has a good chance of going mostly unnoticed for as long as he wants. Miya is wearing casual clothes again, Kiyoomi notices, this time some black sweatpants that look a bit nicer than the simple grey ones he’d been wearing at the workshop, and a white t-shirt… he probably is anticipating to get tied up, judging from the form-fitting but comfortable look of his clothes. Well, it’s not like that would be a surprise, considering all the things he found out about Miya and his involvement with that scene by now. 

Miya swiftly leads them through the crowded pub, into a back room. Kiyoomi is glad he doesn’t have to stay in that crowded main area. The music is too loud, too many people packed too tight for his liking and he makes careful effort to not touch anything or anyone while trailing behind Miya and Bokuto. When they finally close the door behind them, Kiyoomi instantly takes a deep breath. It’s much quieter, the music turned down and there are less people here. Instead, he just sees a manageable amount of human beings, gathered around a few tables. 

  
“We usually reserve that room here, because… well, ya wanna be a bit secluded if ya talk about kinky stuff. If ya wanna get something special ta drink, just go to the bar, we always have water an’ stuff here.”   
He points over to a small counter tucked in the corner, holding several bottles of water and two pitchers of orange juice. No alcohol, though.   
“Most people here don’t drink, or don’t drink much at least. Wanna be sober if ya decide to have some fun, usually.” Miya grins.   
“Omi-Omi, ya already know some people, but lemme introduce ya”, he says and Bokuto follows him. Kiyoomi sighs and reluctantly tags along. It’s much less scary to follow their lead. The idea of diving into conversation with people who are basically strangers intimidates him more than he’d like to admit. 

He can spot some familiar faces in the loose crowd gathered around the tables in the middle of the room. 

There’s Yotsuba, this time not in yoga pants but what seems to be a lacy black dress, talking with an older man, probably in his late thirties or early fourties, judging from the wrinkles around his eyes and the salt-and-pepper hair on his temples. There is Mika, the exuberant girl from the workshop, with her girlfriend in her lap, surrounded by a group of other young people, probably all in their early twenties. There are two older couples, talking quietly while casually fondling… is that a _whip_? Kiyoomi takes a deep breath and instinctively slides closer to Miya. It’s quite overwhelming to be here. 

“Ya fine, Omi-Omi?”   
Miya looks at him, eyebrows scrunched up and Kiyoomi just shrugs. Why is Miya so fucking perceptive all the time? Why does he pick up every move of his face, even when most of his face is hidden behind a fucking face mask?   
“Yer eyes”, Miya just states, hands buried in the pockets of his sweatpants. Kiyoomi stares at him, wordlessly, eyebrows raised high.   
“Yer eyes. Yer eyes are really fucking expressive and ya always wear that mask when yer not on the court, so I’ve learned to read yer eyes. It’s easy. So, ya fine?”   
Wordlessly Kiyoomi nods, floored by Miya’s revelation. Miya Atsumu has paid enough attention to him to be able to read his thoughts from his eyes. _What the hell is going on?_   
“That’s good. I’m goin’ ta introduce ya to some people.” 

Miya and Bokuto have the habit of striking a loud and exuberant conversation from nothing but a simple hello and exchange of names, but that gives Kiyoomi a lot of time to adjust to the environment, so for once he is really grateful to be around those two. 

Miya introduces Bokuto to Yotsuba (“She’s the absolute best with ropes. Seriously, nobody can tie ya up better.” – “You want a taste? Atsumu-kun would surely be happy if I demonstrated some things later?” – “That would be awesome, ma’am!”) and her salt-and-pepper haired companion, who Miya introduces as Tachibana-san, the _“best dom I’ve ever met”_ , he claims and then launches into a long winded explanation as to how Tachibana got him into subspace once, just by talking down to him and well-delivered spanking. While Miya and Bokuto start talking with Yotsuba, Tachibana has his eyes set on Kiyoomi. 

“First time?” he asks. “At something like this?”   
Kiyoomi just nods, feeling a bit anxious at Tachibana’s piercing gaze. For a man in his forties, he looks objectively good, hair short and beard cleanly trimmed, broad shoulders under a dark blue shirt.   
“No worries, nobody is going to bite unless you ask them to.” Tachibana’s eyes soften a bit and he smiles. “Your name?”   
“Sakusa…”   
“Nice to meet you, Sakusa-kun. Are you a friend of Atsumu’s?”   
Friend? Not necessarily the word he would use, usually. But to say he knows him from work probably comes across as a bit weird, and so he settles on nodding.   
“And what are you interested in?” 

Tachibana’s straightforwardness – no, _everybody’s_ straightforwardness – overwhelms him every time. _How can these people talk about kinky sex so casually?_   
Just as he opens his mouth to choke out an answer, Miya leans over his shoulder, his body not quite touching, just hovering there.   
“Tachibana-san, I don’t think Omi-Omi is up fer a public spanking”, he says and Tachibana laughs.   
“Don’t worry, Atsumu-kun. I just wanted to get to know him.” Then he looks at Kiyoomi, a grin on his face that Kiyoomi can’t read. “Have fun, you kids”, he says and then joins a group of newly arrived middle-aged people.   
“Ya look overwhelmed, Omi-Omi”, Miya says and Kiyoomi is too much off his game to even think about admitting weaknesses to Miya. He just nods and when Miya carefully hooks a hand around his arm, looking at him questioningly, he can’t even protest about the touching. Miya has touched him before, it’s fine and it actually calms his nerves down a bit. 

Bokuto is deep in conversation with Yotsuba, she has a piece of rope in her fingers and it’s quite obvious he’s showering her with questions she’s trying to answer as quickly as he fires them at her. Kiyoomi is almost grateful, when Miya instead carefully nudges him over to the group of young people who have gathered in another corner, around Mika and her girlfriend. 

“Ah, Atsumu-kun!” Mika greets him, a bright smile on her face. She’s jumping up so fast, Ayumi almost falls while trying to stand up from her lap.   
“You really brought him!” And then she bounces over to him, ready to hug them both. Kiyoomi instinctively takes a step back and before he can even open his mouth, Miya steps in, his hand leaving Kiyoomi’s arm and instead he holds it out in front of him, almost protectively.   
“No hugs, Mika-chan! Omi-Omi doesn’t like that”, he says, then leaves Kiyoomi’s side to give Mika a short hug. After letting her go, Mika looks at Kiyoomi apologetically.   
“I’m sorry, I didn’t know you don’t like to be touched”, she says and bows. “I’m glad to see you, Sakusa-kun. Let me introduce you!”   
And so, he finds himself seated between Miya Atsumu and Nakagawa Mika, surrounded by unfamiliar faces, but it’s surprisingly okay for him. Ayumi is there, huddled close to her girlfriend, as well as three guys, who introduce themselves as Rei and Nagisa, one short and blond and bubbly, one tall and with glasses, the third one a pretty guy with pink curls, who introduces himself as Kisumi. 

The others fall back into conversation easily, Miya eagerly joining them, and Kiyoomi can’t keep himself from being thankful for his presence. Nobody expects him to say anything, they don’t bother him with intrusive questions. Just some young adults chatting, even if the topics are sometimes a bit spicier than what you’d expect to hear in a college cafeteria. Just as often though, it’s just the same small talk you’d expect to hear anywhere and soon, Kiyoomi finds himself quite at ease, throwing in a short comment or quip here or there when he thinks he has something meaningful to say. When Miya launches into a retelling of some hijinks he got into with his twin in high school, Kiyoomi finds himself laughing along with the others and he is genuinely enjoying himself. 

And he can actually get his eyes off Atsumu for a while. Rei and Nagisa seem quite close to him, probably a couple and Kisumi every now and then mentions his girlfriend. So these three are probably not the right people for experimenting with. Tachibana-san, even though he seems nice, is a Dom, that much is clear and Kiyoomi can, under no circumstances, imagine himself doing something with him. Subbing in general, _maybe_ … but Tachibana is just plain intimidating. 

Slowly, the conversation drifts away from Miya’s high school shenanigans and back, into topics a bit… _less safe for work_ , Mika proudly telling them all how much Ayumi learned at that workshop and how much fun they had with what they tried after it. Miya looks over at him.   
“Ya already tried it out?” he asks and Kiyoomi shakes his head. What does Miya think of him? That he went home and immediately found a hookup for some experiments? Miya should know that’s not how Kiyoomi does things.   
“I would be up for it”, Miya states bluntly, and Kiyoomi almost chokes. He would be thankful for his mask, but… well, by now he knows Miya can read him just from his eyes, so well, _fuck_ , probably. The others around them laugh and Mika gives him a light slap to his shoulder. He doesn’t flinch away, just glares at her and she pulls her hand back. Kiyoomi is proud of himself, just a year or two back he would have probably freaked out in a situation like that. Now, he just feels uncomfortable, but it could be way worse.   
“Sorry, sorry… I forgot, I’m sorry. Just… a reason not to take his offer?”, she asks with an innocent smile. 

How can a person casually talk about getting tied up and spanked by her girlfriend, just to look so innocent only five minutes later?   
“He’s my coworker”, he just says. That’s by far not the only reason. He’s his teammate, they’ve known each other since they were fifteen, they don’t like each other all that much, they have managed to find a careful balance between antipathy, friendship and rivalry that works and that, under no circumstances, should be upended. The reasons not to fuck Miya, in whatever situation and with whatever motivation, are obvious and he won’t risk any of that. Mika just shrugs, obviously not caring too much about his reasoning.   
“I think you’re missing out. You should have seen him. Back then, when Tachibana did this one scene… It was amazing. He just made Atsumu kneel at his feet for the whole evening and then he… talked. About him, told everyone what a slut Atsumu is, how he just loves to submit to everybody, how he needs that… and then he bent him over the table and spanked him, through his pants and everything, and that got Tsumu into subspace. Being put on display like that.” 

Kiyoomi chokes down a guttural sound that threatens to escape his throat and he can’t deny how… incredibly hot that sounds. It seems Miya has a bit of an exhibitionistic streak and Kiyoomi can’t say he’s surprised. Not at all, if he’s being honest. Faintly, Kiyoomi can remember an All-Japan-Youth Camp, years ago and a younger Miya, slightly drunk and furiously trying to get Kageyama Tobio to make out with him in front of everybody.   
“Ugh, you tell that story to everyone! It’s kinda annoying…”   
Miya looks the tiniest bit uncomfortable and Kiyoomi can’t help but admire the faint blush on his face. It’s… adorable. He has never seen Miya blush. Never seen him in any state of mind other than cocky and confident, and every new facet he discovers makes Miya just more interesting. 

_Interesting?_

What the hell is his brain thinking? Miya isn’t interesting. Not at all. Kiyoomi buries his hands in the pockets of his jeans and leans back.   
“But I have to say… Tachibana is a really good dom. So Omi, if ya ever wanna try subbing, I would recommend him.” Miya grins at him, bright and blinding and blisteringly hot and Kiyoomi’s heart stops for one moment. Then, it’s beating again, double the speed, and he is fairly sure this heart rate is far from healthy. And his brain has short-circuited for sure at some point this evening, if Miya does these things to him.   
“No interest”, he states, trying to level his voice into something calm and collected. That whole evening has a tendency to get him out of his usual acts, to get through all the small cracks in his carefully constructed walls and he hates it. He doesn’t want to get out of his shell. He’s comfortable in here, thank you very much.   
“Guess so… ya seem way more into domming”, Miya smirks and… _holy shit_ , his tongue is out and running over his lips like the idea of Kiyoomi domming is the tastiest thing he’s ever thought of. And… _what?_ There, on that soft, red tongue gliding over pink lips, glints a small ball of metal.   
How has he missed that? How has he not realised Miya Atsumu has a fucking _tongue piercing?_ That idiot has his tongue out at every possible opportunity, how has he not seen that until now? 

_Because you try very hard not to look at him too closely,_ a small voice, deep in the back of his mind, tells him. _Because you are afraid to admit you find him attractive._

“Omi-Omi, yer starin’!” Miya looks straight at him, straight through him and Kiyoomi blinks, closes his eyes a split second longer than necessary and regals his racing heart into some semblance of a normal rhythm. Then, he meets Miya’s gaze head on.   
“I didn’t know you had a tongue piercing; I was surprised. That’s all.” Miya grins, his tongue gliding across his lips slowly, deliberately, showing off the gunmetal grey barbell adorning it.   
“Ah… That’s still kinda new, only had it for about eight weeks. It’s only recently healed.” He pokes out his tongue, showing off the piercing and Mika coos, next to him.   
“Atsumu-kun, that’s so cool!”   
He gets several compliments from the others as well, but his eyes never leave Kiyoomi’s.   
“What do ya think, Omi-Omi?” he asks, a smirk on his face. Kiyoomi takes a deep breath and hopes his voice doesn’t convey too much of the conflicting thoughts going on in his head. It’s hot. It’s scary. It’s confusing. He imagines Miya’s tongue on his body, a contrast between hot flesh and cool metal.   
“It suits you”, he says, his voice surprisingly relaxed, even though he feels everything but. It’s the truth, though. A tongue piercing suits Miya, more than he thought. 

Miya… Miya blushes. His cheeks turn red and his eyes glow. His whole body shifts a bit and reminds Kiyoomi of a dog after you’ve given them a treat.   
“Thanks, Omi-Omi!” And then, the sincere gratitude disappears, replaced by another sly smirk. Fuck. Has this guy practised that stupid smirk? Since when is Miya even capable of expressions like this? Since when is Miya anything resembling seductive?   
“Wanna have a taste of how it feels?”   
Kiyoomi actually chokes this time, what’s intended as a “What the fuck, Miya?” comes out as an unintelligible sound of coughing and gasping. Miya howls with laughter and reaches over, casually petting Kiyoomi’s shoulder.   
“Don’cha die on me, Omi-Omi. I still need ya on court!”   
Kiyoomi reaches up to slap his hand away, but… it feels surprisingly fine. He feels uncomfortable with people touching him, usually, but Miya’s hand on his shoulder feels less like an invasion of his personal space and more just… like a warm, comforting hand on his back. A feeling he could get used to, if he’s honest with himself. Maybe he’s truly getting better. His therapist will be proud of him if he tells her of this moment, he thinks. And he lets his own hand sink back into his lap, relaxing a bit. His cough subsides and Miya’s hand disappears from his shoulder. It leaves a cold spot behind and Kiyoomi realizes belatedly he has not only tolerated Miya’s hand on him. He has actually enjoyed it.   
“Just a joke”, Miya says and relaxes back into his chair, both of his hands on the bottle of beer again. 

Luckily, his confused brain gets a breather after this, as the conversation relaxes back into harmless chatter. They talk about the workshop for a bit, Ayumi warms up a bit and tells them what she’s thinking, how that whole BDSM scene scares her a bit, but having Mika by her side makes everything easier and Kiyoomi looks at the two girls, Ayumi in Mika’s lap, with genuine happiness. They look good and happy together and, deep down, he wishes he could find someone who compliments him the way they do for each other. But he has no time, no space for a relationship at the moment, he reminds himself. 

The Black Jackals take up most of his life. He’s at away games half the time; now the national team is there as well and with that added to his schedule he spends more time in hotel beds than at his own apartment. When there’s no practice or games, there’s PR stuff. Interviews, photoshootings, talk show appearances. Meetings with JVA officials. Physiotherapy. More practice. And somewhere he has to squeeze in his weekly therapy sessions. His doctor’s appointments for his medication. 

  
His life is hectic, only kept in check by his planner and careful routines, and he’s just stable enough to manage this hustle. Fitting another person with a life vastly different to his own in there seems impossible.   
“They are so adorable”, Miya states. Kiyoomi looks over at him and he’s smiling that stupidly genuine smile that makes him look like he’s the happiest man in the world. But Kiyoomi knows him well enough and there’s a hint of longing in his eyes, the smile reaching them, but dulled.   
“I’m kinda jealous. Everyone’s in a happy relationship. Bokkun has Akaashi. Mika-chan and Ayumi. Samu is engaged. And I’m still single. Have been since that desaster with Kita, back after graduation.” A deep sigh leaves his lips.   
“Guess I’m just not cut out for this.”   
He gestures over to Mika and Ayumi, who pepper each other’s faces with small kisses, Mika’s hand twirling Ayumi’s ponytail around and tickling her girlfriend’s neck with it. They are adorable. There is no other word for it. They look good and happy and Kiyoomi wants someone who plays with his hair the same way. 

  
“What about ya? I mean… ya came alone to that workshop. So I guess…?”   
Miya’s voice trails off.   
“I’ve been single since the beginning of my senior year in college. We broke up because I had volleyball and he wanted to go to grad school and things didn’t work out anymore.” Kiyoomi shrugs. It had hurt, back then, but now he knows it’s for the best.   
“Didn’t think you did relationships, if I’m bein’ honest”, Miya admits, chugging back the rest of his beer. Kiyoomi lifts an eyebrow.   
“How did you get to that conclusion?” Miya shrugs and stands up.   
“Dunno… they involve touching, usually. And ya don’t like touching. I’m gonna get another beer. Want one?”   
Kiyoomi gets up. Something to drink sounds good. 

“I don’t like being touched by strangers. I am fine with being touched by a partner. You know, I have a sex life. I’ve had relationships. I just don’t get all touchy with everybody.” 

Miya’s eyes widen a bit at that admission, like he’s actually surprised. That guy has known him since they were fifteen and he’s never thought about that? Just now, Kiyoomi realizes Miya has never asked him about his touch aversion and what goes with it. Most people start to bother Kiyoomi with these questions at some point, mostly quite early on after he meets them… but he and Miya have known each other for almost ten years by now and it’s the first time they are actually talking about it.   
Is it considerateness on Miya’s part? Did he do it deliberately, just accepting Kiyoomi and his flaws, or does he simply not care? Kiyoomi is wondering, so much he almost misses Miya’s question.   
“So… what exactly is the thing with touching ya? I never actually asked…” Kiyoomi looks up, seeing Miya there, slowly walking next to him. He has his hands buried in the pockets of his pants and is looking at him with a careful gaze, equal times curious and skeptical, as if he’s afraid of having asked this question. But Kiyoomi isn’t angry. The question was posed in a completely normal way, with respect and curiosity and he sees no reason to not answer. He still has to think about what exactly he should say for a while, though. 

They walk across the room together, out into the main area of the pub and towards the bar. Kiyoomi takes these few moments to find a reply he is comfortable with. He doesn’t want to lay out his whole slew of diagnoses, but Miya seems genuinely interested, not just curious about some gossip. Miya has asked him this question after not intruding for years. After always respecting every boundary Kiyoomi set. Miya has never accidentally hugged him on court, the way Bokuto or Hinata or Inunaki sometimes do. Miya has never made him physically uncomfortable, so Kiyoomi reasons he deserves a well thought-out answer. 

  
“Getting touched makes me anxious. I got diagnosed with mysophobia when I was fourteen, and that’s why I usually avoid strangers and their touch. If I am in control, physical closeness is a lot easier. Or when I trust someone.”   
Miya is quiet for a moment, then he pulls out his phone. Kiyoomi raises his eyebrows and his voice comes out snappier than intended.   
“What on earth are you…”   
“I’m just googlin’ it, okay? I’ve never heard that term before…” his fingers dance across the screen, as he pulls up a quick search.   
“Ah, so yer afraid of germs? Hm… sounds really difficult.” Miya let’s his phone disappear back into his pocket.   
“It’s not just that I’m afraid of germs”, Kiyoomi forces out, as they approach the counter.   
“It’s irrational and annoying and I hate it, but I can’t change it. And you could have just fucking asked.” But no, instead Miya went and googled and probably just skimmed the first result he got. Which, luckily, is the wikipedia entry that is quite decent, from what Kiyoomi remembers.   
“Yeah, but I didn’t want ya ta feel like ya have to explain the basics to me. I can read, ya know, so why bother?”   
Kiyoomi rolls his eyes. That is a way of reasoning he can get behind and he can kind of appreciate the effort, but this usually doesn’t work out that well with mental health issues.   
“But the experience is very different from person to person. So if you want to know about my experience and not just the general things, feel free to ask. I’d much rather explain the basics than have anyone jump to wrong conclusions or walk on eggshells around me.”   
Miya’s forehead crinkles. He’s staring at Kiyoomi, face unreadable.   
“Okay… sorry I assumed stuff. Won’t happen again.” Then he smiles, bright and blinding and Kiyoomi instantly tears his gaze away, back to the bar in front of them. Miya’s smile is the best thing about him. Nobody can smile like that, so bright and still so dangerous at the same time. 

“I think ya manage quite well. I mean, ya can play volleyball. And yer here right now. That’s a lot for someone who’s afraid of germs.” Miya leans against the bar and orders them both a specific brand of beer and before Kiyoomi can pull out his wallet, Miya raises his hands.   
“It’s on me”, he says and hands over a few bills in exchange for two bottles of beer with labels Kiyoomi has never seen before. 

They look weirdly vintage, a bit artsy and he realizes it’s probably some craft beer. Not a big surprise Miya is into these kinds of things. He holds one of them out to Kiyoomi, doesn’t even blink an eye when he first wipes down the bottle with an antibacterial wipe before taking it. Kiyoomi is incredibly grateful for Miya’s acceptance, it gives him the feeling of being okay the way he is. It’s a feeling fifteen year old Kiyoomi craved so much. Now, almost ten years later it’s not that much of a problem, all the years of therapy helped him a lot, but it’s still nice to feel accepted. Especially if it comes from someone like Miya, who isn’t really known to be nice and considerate.   
“So that habit of always wipin’ down anything, it’s because of that mysophobia thing?” Kiyoomi nods, throws the wipe into a trash can as they make their way back to the back room.   
“So… how d’ya have sex with that?” 

Kiyoomi’s feet come to a standstill in the middle of the room. For all the positive things he learns about Miya, he also takes just as many steps back, with this crude and annoying nosiness he sometimes has. 

“What the _fuck_ , Miya?” he asks, trying to just sound annoyed, not too scandalized. A simple question like that doesn’t faze him too much. He just didn’t expect it. And maybe, there’s a small part of him, wondering why the hell Miya wants to know that. It’s not like it has something to do with Miya after all. Miya just throws up his arms in defense.   
“Sorry, if I overstepped, I was just… ya seemed fine with me touching you. Earlier and at that workshop. And ya said you have sex, so… I was just wondering.” He looks everwhere but at Kiyoomi, letting his eyes wander across the crowded bar room. There are two girls close by, who giggle and blush as Kiyoomi meets their gazes and he hopes they don’t recognize them and especially not if they heard what they are talking about. 

Kiyoomi sighs and rushes his footsteps towards the back room. Miya follows him, looking a bit like a lost puppy with the way he trails behind Kiyoomi. It makes him smirk under his mask and after a quick glance around the room, he finds a small table, a bit secluded, away from Mika’s group, far away from Bokuto, who by now has struck up an animated conversation with Tachibana and Yotsuba, flailing his arms around wildly. He decides to not care too much and indulge Miya’s curiosity, so he sits down on one of the chairs and gestures for Miya to keep him company.   
Still the same puppy eyes on his face – fuck, they are actually kind of endearing, Kiyoomi realizes – he sits down across from him and looks at Kiyoomi with a look of confusion and curiosity. 

  
“Well… I manage”, Kiyoomi says. Miya stares at him for a moment, until he seems to connect the dots and realize which question he’s getting an answer to.   
“Like everything else. Routines and Habits, getting used to things. Condoms, gloves, showering thoroughly, brushing teeth, all that helps and makes it possible for me to have sex without my brain acting out. And trust, obviously. If I trust someone to look out for their own health, then it’s easier to convince my phobia they aren’t a danger to mine.”   
He pulls down his mask, takes a sip from his beer. It’s a good one, he thinks. He’s not that big on beer, usually prefers to stick to non-alcoholic drinks or sake, sometimes a glass of wine. Beer is usually too bitter, too heavy for his taste. But that particular beer is nice. A good choice Miya made, he realizes.   
He takes another gulp.   
“Sounds like a lot of hassle”, Miya states, elbows on the table in front of them and chin in hands. 

It is, Kiyoomi thinks, but agreeing to that sentiment seems useless. After all, they both know very well that Miya is right.   
“Well, you don’t need to deal with it, so keep your thoughts to yourself.” Kiyoomi’s voice is sharper than intended and he lets out an aggravated sigh. He’s annoyed. Angry. Sad. He has the feeling his chest is exploding with all the bottled up feelings. It’s probably the most emotionally open he’s been in a while. Definitely not something he’d usually let on, especially not in Miya’s company.   
After all, they don’t like each other all that much, do they?   
Miya has managed to get under his skin, has managed to make Kiyoomi think he actually cares and he doesn’t know what to do about it. 

Talking about his sex life with Miya – Miya, who is licking his lips, with that stupid tongue piercing glistening – seems to be not the best course of action. But who cares about that? After all, it is a thing he never talks about, despite all the problems it brings. His mysophobia, no matter how well managed, makes sexual contacts a hassle. It’s annoying, it makes casual sex almost impossible. It was almost a dealbreaker with his ex, in the beginning, took months of adjusting to each other until they both found a comfortable middle ground. But it is his life and he can only do his best. Miya’s eyes widen at his sharp tone and he shakes his head vigorously.   
“I didn’t mean it like… offensively. I don’t wanna imply yer a hassle. Just… that sounds hard to deal with. For you.”   
Kiyoomi has another sharp return ready on his tongue, for the inevitable course this discussion will take, he knows how that goes. He doesn’t want to be attacked by his stupid hot-blooded jerk of a teammate. 

But the words die on his tongue, when he looks at him, looks him straight in the eyes. Miya’s eyes are blown wide, so open Kiyoomi can see straight into his core, that fucking genuine smile on his lips again. He looks so vulnerable like this, so _open_ , ready to be taken apart. For some reason, it makes a wave of heat run through Kiyoomi’s body.   
“I manage”, he forces out, his voice almost cracking, all the sharpness seeping out at the edges. Miya doesn’t answer for a short while, starts tugging on the sticker on his bottle instead. He stares at his fingers, the table, everywhere but at Kiyoomi. But even though Miya tries his best to not look at him, Kiyoomi can see the cogs turning, the clockwork stuttering and then slowly starting to run again. Awkward silence envelops them, almost drowns out the lively chatter around them, until Miya suddenly breaks it, a deep frown on his face.   
“So… do ya think yer interested in BDSM, especially in being a Dom, because that’ll make dealing with that easier?” 

Kiyoomi, in the middle of taking another sip from the bottle, forgets how his body works and inhales the bitter liquid right into his lungs. A violent cough overcomes Kiyoomi and he hates it, hates the burn in his throat, the feeling of being so plainly read by someone whose intelligence he has insulted plenty of times. Miya’s thought makes sense and it’s something Kiyoomi hadn’t even thought of until now. It’s the first time the idea is out in the open and it makes a scary amount of sense. He coughs again, feeling the lump in his throat trying to force his way out, spilling all his thoughts and secrets and feelings. He desperately tries to force it back down. 

  
Miya reaches over and gives him a few good slaps on the back until the coughing subsides.   
“Sorry… I’m just so used ta it. Everybody here is so open with their kinks and yer so stiff. Relax a bit, I don’t expect an answer.”   
“You won’t get one”, Kiyoomi forces out through gritted teeth. Just because everyone is talking freely about every detail of their sex lives doesn’t mean Kiyoomi will do that as well. He should just go. Leave Miya alone and spend his evening in a better way than this. Whatever this is, exactly. 

But Kiyoomi stays. He could just get up, go home, talk to someone else. Instead, he stays, next to Miya, who just keeps surprising him, pushing him. Being surprisingly sharp, surprisingly empathetic. Surprisingly understanding. Surprisingly… surprising. 

After a seemingly endless stretch of silence, he actually answers. He doesn’t plan on it, but the thought keeps swirling in his head and when he opens his mouth to say something, anything to break the silence, the words are pouring out. 

  
“Maybe… I haven’t thought about it that way, to be honest. But being in control of my surroundings helps me in in my daily life, so I wouldn’t be surprised if being in control during sex could help me relax as well. Especially something like bondage. Having my partner restrained means they can’t just touch me. So I wouldn’t have to worry about that, and I would probably be able to think about what feels good instead of focusing on how clean their hands are. So… yeah. Maybe that’s why I am so intrigued. That and the erotica I read.” 

Only after the words leave his mouth, Kiyoomi realises he has just bared not just one, but two deeply personal things to Miya Atsumu, of all people, and his eyes widen. He has slipped up on what is probably his biggest secret, has been ever since that one time when he was sixteen and snagged one of his youngest elder sister’s steamy novels. He stares at Miya, breathing laboured and his hands clutching the bottle of beer tightly. Miya looks back at him, his face just as shocked and surprised as Kiyoomi feels, and then, he has the audacity to chuckle. 

Fucking _chuckle_ as if Kiyoomi just told him something really funny.   
“I’m surprised ya haven’t thought this through, Omi-Omi. Didn’t peg ya for the type to do somethin’ without thinkin’ ‘bout every possible outcome first. But yeah… sounds valid.”   
Miya leans back, propping one leg up against the edge of the table, foot dangling in the air, the black sweatpants stretching over his muscular thigh. A short and deliberate break, a wide smirk.   
“And I always knew ya don’t just read all that boring stuff. So… kinky erotica, huh?” 

Kiyoomi isn’t deliberately looking at that thigh. It’s just a coincidence. No reason to think more into it than necessary. He’s not thinking about how wonderful it would be to wrap his hands around Miya’s throat, either to choke him while he fucks him deep and slow and hard or to murder him. 

“If you ever mention this to anyone, I will fucking murder you. I know how to make every trace of your body disappear.” What is intended as an icy warning comes out as a pathetic attempt at taking back control and Miya just shrugs. 

“Dontcha worry, we all have our dirty little secrets. Yours is safe with me.” He’s licking his lips again, as if the thought of Kiyoomi’s _“dirty little secret”_ , as he’s called it, is the sweetest thing he’s ever heard. 

Luckily, he doesn’t linger there. Instead, Miya keeps talking, switching back to their original talking point, his voice sounding dulled by the storm in Kiyoomi’s ears. He’s confused, can feel his blood running hot, a warmth pooling below his stomach. Miya isn’t unattractive, Kiyoomi muses, only half listening.   
“Ya know… for me it’s the other way ‘round. I’m always in control of everything. I’m the older sibling. I’m a setter, so I have ta think about y’all on court. When I have sex, I just wanna stop thinkin’ for a while. Givin’ up control, that’s when I feel like there’s nothing I have to care about. I can just focus on feeling, for once.” 

He looks at Kiyoomi, something in his face that he just can’t read. It looks like… longing, but that makes zero sense, doesn’t it? Miya has this whole community, if he wanted he would probably just have to ask and people would line up to dominate him? So why should he want Kiyoomi, who knows just barely more than nothing? 

“I can see why you would want that”, he forces out, his voice rougher than he likes. He can understand it. It’s not a feeling he shares, he thinks, but he can see why Miya feels like that. It’s kind of similar to his thoughts, if he’s thinking about it. A different result, but a similar thought process that leads him there. Or maybe, it isn’t all that deep and Miya just likes to be fucked until he stops thinking. Maybe everybody wants their brains to shut the fuck up at some point. Kiyoomi wants his brain to focus on what is, not on what could and will be. Miya wants his brain to focus on feeling instead of thinking. The longer he rolls these ideas around in his head, the more they make him think about just giving it a shot. Miya would be a viable partner, wouldn’t he? Kiyoomi knows him well enough to trust him. Miya is probably one of the more experienced subs here, and Kiyoomi finds him… pleasing to the eye. (He won’t ever admit Miya Atsumu is hot. All stout muscle, sharp lines. Platinum hair in soft waves, and a really inviting mouth with pretty pink lips and a pretty tongue piercing.) 

Miya relaxes in his chair, still curled up like he’s a giant cat and lets his eyes wander around. Silence takes over between them, but this time, it’s not the awkward kind, not because they don’t know what to say to each other, but a calm one. They don’t have to talk about anything. They’ve bared secrets to each other Kiyoomi never thought about. Kiyoomi has learned things he’s never thought he’d learn about Miya, and they take their time to let these realisations settle in. They are enjoying each others’ company, no matter how much Kiyoomi wishes it wouldn’t be the case. 

“Tachibana and his wife wanted to do a suspension scene with me later”, Miya breaks the silence, after a few minutes. Kiyoomi looks up, eyebrows raised. What is that change of topic? He did not expect Miya to talk about doing… things with someone else, after that conversation that has probably catapulted them from tentative acquaintances straight into friendship territory. (Is it friendship he wants from Miya? Are they in friends-with-benefits territory?) 

“They are photographers and she’s also very involved in the scene and we had this shooting planned for a while now. Some artistic stuff, for a book he’s co-authoring. He asked me to be his model for that a while back. It’s probably not going to be a full scene or something, and definitely not really something sexy. Just some platonic bondage and she’s going to take pictures of that.” Miya laughs and lets his feet dangle in the air, legs still folded up and resting against the table.   
_Platonic bondage, huh? So that is a thing Miya does? No reason to not ask him for some practise then,_ a voice in the back of Kiyoomi’s head ponders.   
“We plan to go to their studio later. Do you want to come?” Even though he doesn’t want to admit it, he’s very much interested. Kiyoomi wants to see Miya tied up again, wants to learn more. He wants to see what an experienced rigger – a term he learned only tonight but that already fits flawlessly into his vocabulary – can do with someone like Atsumu. The thought doesn’t help the heat in his body subside. 

“Tachibana-san can probably show you some more things… Ya seemed kinda interested during the workshop.” Kiyoomi breathes, once, twice, thrice, until he’s sure his voice sounds cool and level and not at all like he wants to jump Miya right now. (Which he doesn’t. He’s interested, not desperate.) 

“That sounds interesting”, he says, his voice almost stable. Just a slight tremble Kiyoomi hopes nobody notices. “If it’s fine with all of you I wouldn’t mind watching.”   
Miya shakes his head and smiles, that stupid happy grin that makes Kiyoomi feel so warm all over.   
“I’m sure he’ll be fine, but I’m gonna ask him anyways.” With that, he bounces up and away and disappears into the crowd in the room, in search of Tachibana. Kiyoomi leans back and takes a breather, reveling in the short moment of respite this grants him. He’s overwhelmed, there is so much happening around him, so many feelings, so many people and he’s infinitely glad for this short moment of solitude. 

When Miya comes back, a few minutes later, he has Tachibana-san in tow, together with Bokuto and Yotsuba-san. They settle down around the small table and Kiyoomi feels Tachibana’s intense stare on him. It sends shivers down his spine and the man’s presence is so confident, so towering that he gets why people want to submit. Tachibana just quietly takes the reins, just by stepping into a room, a conversation.   
“You want to watch our scene with Atsumu?” he asks. His voice is deep and radiates confidence, but Kiyoomi keeps the eye contact. He won’t submit so easily. 

“Miya told me that you’re one of the best and I want to learn from the best,” he counters, head held high, and Tachibana’s glare pins him down. Kiyoomi wants to look away, but he forces himself to not do that. It takes a few long seconds, stretching like time is dilating. Then, Tachibana laughs, a deep and rumbling sound emanating from his chest.   
“I like your attitude”, he says and his posture relaxes, his gaze softens a bit.   
“If Atsumu is fine with it, you can watch. Maybe even help a bit. My wife is okay with it, I already asked her when Atsumu told me you’re interested.” 

Kiyoomi takes a deep breath, feels the tension seep away and his own shoulders relax. Tachibana doesn’t seems to bad, he thinks. His laugh is nice and the way he talks, respectful but confident and relaxed, impresses Kiyoomi. It’s how he would like to be. How he tries to be, and sometimes fails, when his brain acts up and his mental health plummets. Tachibana’s words keep ringing in his ears and Kiyoomi doesn’t know what to think about it. Help? That’s not what he signed up for, when he agreed to Miya’s proposition. It sounds… way more dirty in Kiyoomi’s head than it is intended, probably. 

Tachibana folds his arms, fixates Kiyoomi.   
“Sachiko told me you were at her workshop. Any other experience with Shibari?”   
Kiyoomi shakes his head and Tachibana just nods, seemingly in thought. He doesn’t speak for a while, and Kiyoomi can hear the chatter of Miya, Bokuto and Yotsuba next to them, crowded around the too small table. He looks over and sees Miya, still slouched in his chair, still grinning brightly, still clinging to the bottle. Is drinking a good idea if he’s going to get tied up and hung from a ceiling, Kiyoomi wonders. Tachibana’s voice takes back his focus and he tears his eyes away from Miya’s strong thighs, flexing with his dangling feet.   
“Interested in learning?” 

Kiyoomi scoffs and nods. Would he be here if he wasn’t interested? Would he be even thinking about Miya’s and Tachibana’s offer? Probably not. “Good… yeah, you can come along, you’ll probably learn something. It’s not going to be a particularly sexual scene anyways, with my wife present and the photos.” 

Not _particularly_ sexual. That’s a phrasing Kiyoomi hasn’t expected. He’s done enough research, learned enough by now, to know that shibari isn’t sexual in and of itself, and after Miya’s words he didn’t expected the upcoming scene to be. So Tachibana’s wording makes him skeptic. _Not particularly?_

Kiyoomi can feel his mouth go dry and focus drifting away. Will he see Miya without these… pants. How can sweatpants be alluring attire? Somehow, Miya pulls them off, black sweatpants that cling to his stupidly muscular thighs.   
_Well fuck,_ some part of Kiyoomi’s brain thinks. _You kind of want to see him without these pants._ He sinks deeper in his chair and focuses on the conversation the others are having, trying to fade away into the background and away from his thoughts. 

Luckily, the conversation relaxes into easier topics, and Kiyoomi can relax for a while. Bokuto tells them about how happy he is with everything, with meeting all these people and how he’s sure Akaashi would love them all and how he’d probably bring him along next time. Kiyoomi kind of hopes he actually does, because Bokuto’s boyfriend is actually a really nice conversationalist and someone Kiyoomi enjoys spending time with. Akaashi is one of the people he easily finds things to talk about with, their shared love of literature making way to a wide array of talking points. Akaashi is also a very quiet and calm person and not at all touchy, which bumps him up a few more notches in Kiyoomi’s list of favourite people. 

Kiyoomi learns that Yotsuba has spent the evening teaching Bokuto some basic knots and giving him some hints for further research and Bokuto is already starting to think of things he could do for his and Akaashi’s anniversary. It’s way more intimate than Kiyoomi usually wants, but in this atmosphere, with these people, he’s surprisingly okay with everything and just listens, sometimes throwing in a comment here or there. The others shower Bokuto in tips and ideas, fling questions about Akaashi at him and remind him of things to be careful with and Kiyoomi just drifts with the flow. It’s nice. His thoughts keep wandering, though, every now and then, to Miya all tied up, and he’s curious about what’s to come later that evening. He’s looking forward to it. And maybe, he’s a bit afraid to find out how sexual _“not particularly sexual”_ is. 

Surprisingly, Bokuto says goodbye not to long after, mumbling something about missing his boyfriend and Kiyoomi can’t help but smile when he sees Bokuto, getting ready to leave and saying goodbye to anyone he’s just met this evening, get out his phone and shoot off a quick text message. Akaashi seems to respond quickly, because there is this dopey, lovestruck grin on Bokuto’s face. 

Sometimes, Kiyoomi is jealous of them. They’ve found each other when they were only in high school. Almost ten years later, now, and they are still as happy as ever. If there’s such a thing as soulmates, he’s sure Bokuto and Akaashi are as close to it as humanly possible. They make a picture perfect couple and Kiyoomi is quite sure, if gay marriage gets legalized in Japan, those two will be among the first to walk down the aisle. He can easily picture them in wedding suits, can see the headlines everywhere. He can see them adopting kids a few years down the line. They’ll probably stay together ‘til death do us part, or how the saying goes. 

“They are so adorable”, Miya sighs next to him and Kiyoomi looks up at him. There’s a look of longing on Miya’s face, and now that Kiyoomi thinks back to them talking earlier, he can see why. He had his high school sweetheart as well, but for him it didn’t work out. Miya didn’t get at least a temporary happy end, from what Kiyoomi gathered from their chat earlier that night. He kind of wants to know why, but asking seems intrusive and he doesn’t want to drag up old memories, possibly hurt Miya. There will probably be enough opportunities for more soul-baring talks between them in the future. And he can’t say he’d mind them. He liked it earlier. Likes the way Miya thinks, so different from his own over-analysing brain. Likes the way he is so casual about things, how Miya makes it easy to just talk.   
“Yeah”, he just says. They are adorable and he’s maybe, just maybe, the tiniest bit jealous of them. 

When the meet-up slowly breaks apart, more and more people heading home and saying goodbye, Tachibana gets up.   
“It’s time, I guess… Atsumu, Sakusa-kun, you’re coming?”   
Miya gets up immediately, following Tachibana out the door like a puppy and Kiyoomi trails behind them a few steps.   
“Have fun, Sakusa-kun”, Yotsuba says before pulling out her car keys. “Watch and learn… Tachibana is really good at showing new doms the ropes and I’m sure Atsumu would be very happy if you took his advice to heart.”   
She smirks, before turning and disappearing around a corner. 

Kiyoomi’s eyes follow her and he blinks in confusion. Why should Atsumu care for his proficiency with rope? Has Yotsuba seen through him? Has she caught on to the fact that he’s thinking about Miya way too much? He’s still lost in his own head, when he hears Tachibana’s voice again.   
“Okay, how did you get here?” he asks both of them.   
“I came with Bokuto”, Kiyoomi answers and hopes he doesn’t cause too much inconvenience. Hopefully someone can take him to wherever they are going now and preferably he also has a way to get home later.   
“I drove”, Miya answers. “So… Omi-Omi, need a ride? I can drop you off at home later as well.” 

Kiyoomi breathes out in relief and nods.   
“Thanks, Miya”, he says. Tonight he’s doing a lot of unusual things, thanking Miya for something in sincerity isn’t the most unusual occurrence tonight. Even if the thought of Miya’s car is a bit scary. After all he has seen that beat up piece of rust he calls a car. But the anticipation of what’s to come beats out every bit of anxiety about the possible contamination of a car.   
“Then we’ll meet at the studio in… twenty minutes?” Tachibana asks and they nod. 

Tachibana disappears, the lights of a sleek black car blinking and Kiyoomi wonders how a photographer can afford what looks like one of these expensive german cars. He must either come from money or make a very sizable income. From their volleyball, they can’t afford a Mercedes. Not that they are poor, they can live comfortably, but they are far from rich. 

Miya walks him a few steps down the street to his rusty red Toyota and holds open the passenger door for Kiyoomi. Too surprised by the gentlemanly gesture – since when can Miya be nice, even? – he folds his long limbs into the small car. It’s a bit of a squeeze, but as soon as he’s sitting and has his legs arranged comfortably, it’s not too bad. While Miya does the same in the driver’s seat, Kiyoomi looks around. He’s never been inside Miya’s car and somehow, he has expected a disaster. 

But instead, it looks nice. Old, yes, and there are a few scratches and bumps here and there, but it’s clean. A small plush fox dangles from the rearview mirror, there are a few specks of dust here and there, but that’s all. The fabric on the seats is worn-out, but clean and Kiyoomi thinks he can even see a patch on the driver’s seat. How old is this car even? Really old, Kiyoomi realizes, when he sees this car has a radio that can only be counted as antique, with not even a CD player. Just a c assette deck.   
“I got her for my twentieth birthday… was all I could afford, as a second stringer back then an’ my parents couldn’t help me out. They don’ have much money. Without my volleyball scholarship, I could have never gone to a fancy school like Inarizaki.” Miya looks proud, way more proud than people usually looks while talking about an old, rusty car. 

  
“Her?” Kiyoomi asks, eyebrows raised. Miya jams his keys into the ignition and buckles his seatbelt.   
“’Samu named her Christine. Said it’s after a book about a talking car or something. An’ I thought it was cute.”   
Miya looks so sincere, like he genuinely likes the name and his obliviousness is almost endearing. Kiyoomi – having read the book in question, obviously – bursts out into laughter.   
“Oh my god”, he chokes out, his body spasming and he buries his face in his hands. Cackling up, he forces himself to look at Miya, who just… stares at him. Dumbfounded, like he has never… 

Oh. He _has_ never heard him laugh, has he? 

“That book… I think your brother left out a lot.” He takes a few deep breaths, his laughter fading into soft chuckles.   
“It’s a horror book by Stephen King.”   
“I know King! That’s the one with the clowns? ‘It’, wasn’t it? I’ve seen the movie!”   
“Yeah… yeah, ‘It’ is his most famous book. The car is from a book called Christine. It’s about a murderous car who kills all its owners.”   
“Oh…” is all that comes out of Miya’s mouth, as he finally pulls the car out of the parking bay.   
“I’m gonna kill Samu. But first, I have ta read that book, I guess. Haven’t read a book since junior year of high school. Just so I know why and how ta kill him.”   
Kiyoomi doesn’t even think about his offer, the words just tumble out of his mouth.   
“I can lend it to you… I like Stephen King, I have most of his books.” 

Then he pauses for a moment. “I can bring it next time we have practice”. 

Miya smiles at him, for a moment, before looking back onto the street.   
“That would be nice… I didn’t know you lend out books. Didn’t think ya would with yer mysophobia, to be honest.”   
Kiyoomi shrugs. He doesn’t usually. But somehow, many of his usual boundaries seem way less clear-cut with Miya.   
“I don’t usually. But it’s only collecting dust, anyway. So it’s fine I guess.” 

Miya focuses his eyes on the road, he clearly knows his way around town, and Kiyoomi gazes out of the window over the Osaka night.   
“So ya like reading?” Miya asks.   
“Kinda fits ya, ya probably have a huge bookshelf at home and an armchair, like the grandpa yer inside.”   
Kiyoomi wants to be offended. Being called a grandfather on the inside isn’t nice and he wants to be angry, to offer a snappy return, but… well, Miya is right. Kiyoomi likes quiet evenings at home, prefers wine over beer, likes to read, likes tea, likes to be comfortable and he actually has an armchair where he likes to read. And Miya’s voice doesn’t sound like he’s making fun of him. A bit teasing, yes, but also kind of… endeared. Miya, who Kiyoomi always percieved as judgemental and abrasive, proves to be really fucking nice, actually. 

“There’s nothing wrong with a full bookshelf and a favourite place to read”, Kiyoomi just answers, instead of starting a fight or admitting how much he enjoys Miya’s company. Casual banter seems to be the best thing for now. Miya laughs and their conversation flows into the easy banter Kiyoomi wanted. It’s playful, it’s funny and it’s not that far off from them butting heads on the court. It’s safe. No risk for accidental soul-baring confessions. Kiyoomi is surprised how easy their conversation flows, how… not an asshole Miya has been in the last week. 

And then he realises: Miya hasn’t been an asshole in a very long time. Back in highschool, they were something between rivals and mortal enemies and he couldn’t stand Miya. And that attitude carried over into their time at the Black Jackals. But ever since Sakusa joined the team, Miya has been… for lack of a better word, _nice_. Not absurdly so, but his teasing was in good faith. Their rivalry about their serves was just that: some friendly rivalry.   
They’ve practised together countless times, aside from regular hours. They’ve appeared on TV shows together, had photoshoots and everything and not once, in all these months, has Miya actually tried to hurt him. They haven’t had true antipathy since highschool. And without him even acknowledging, over time, they have become something like friends. Kiyoomi has to begrudgingly admit, _he_ has been the asshole. And judgmental, assuming Miya is the same as in high school, still the same jerk who glares at his own fans. No… Miya hasn’t been that person, ever since they’ve seen each other again. Four years of college for Kiyoomi. Four years of… what was Miya up to in that time? They have never really talked about it. He is so lost in his own thoughts, their conversation stills and Miya just looks at him with measured glances every now and then. 

When Miya pulls the car into a parking lot in front of a simple office building, Kiyoomi’s head is still swimming with the realisations about their relationship. “You still sure about this?” Miya asks, and Kiyoomi blinks a few times. Oh. Miya probably assumed the silence was due to nervousness. Well… that’s definitely better than the reason it actually is. He feels absolutely zero need to bare his soul to Miya again right now. “Yeah… yeah, I’m sure, I was just lost in thoughts”, he answers. Miya looks at him for a moment, with a strangely attentive gaze, and Kiyoomi has the feeling he’s being seen straight through. Then, he’s back to his usual grin. 

“Okay, we’re a bit late, so… let’s hurry”, Miya says and they exit the car. Kiyoomi follows him across the parking lot, through an unlocked side entrance and up a few stairs. Tachibana’s photo studio is on the third floor, a small entrance room with a bathroom next to it, a plush sofa on the side. The door to the studio is open and Tachibana appears in the doorway.   
“You’re late. Let’s get ready”, he says and Miya nods. No commentary in any other way and Kiyoomi quickly realizes he’s just as compliant and obedient as at the workshop. Miya quickly disappears into the bathroom, and Tachibana beckons for Kiyoomi to follow him into the studio. 

It’s a large room with big windows, shut by blinds right now. A warm light illuminates a large empty space in front of a black wall, some soft boxes arranged around but not yet turned on. On a small table Kiyoomi can see a pile of ropes, carefully wrapped into easy to handle bundles. Next to the table, a petite woman in dark-wash jeans and a light green jumper handles a big, professional looking camera. When she hears them enter the room, she looks up and smiles at Kiyoomi. 

“You must be Sakusa-kun?” she asks and sets the camera down, stepping closer.   
“I’m Tachibana Yukiko, nice to meet you. You can call me Yukiko.” She does a little bow and Kiyoomi replies in kind.   
“Nice to meet you, too. Miya-san invited me to watch.” Yukiko smiles und picks the camera back up.   
“I know, Kentarou told me.” She musters him, with the analytical gaze of a photographer Kiyoomi has seen many times in his photo shootings.   
“You know, Sakusa-kun… it’s a shame you’re only here to watch. I’d love to take some pictures of you some day.” 

Kiyoomi puts on an awkward smile. He hates being in front of a camera, just barely tolerates it for his job. His interest to stand in front of one in his free time as well is close to zero.   
“Maybe some other time”, he answers.   
“So, did Atsumu tell you anything specific about the scene I am planning?” Tachibana – Kentarou, as Kiyoomi has learned now – steps closer and looks at him expectantly. He is rolling the sleeves of his dark shirt up to his elbows, baring strong muscular forearms. Kiyoomi can see why people would find him attractive. What exactly is Miya’s relationship with these two, he wonders. But that’s not what they’re here for, so he tries to focus on what’s important now. Kiyoomi shakes his head. 

“I had the impression you want to learn some things. New Dom?”   
Kiyoomi doesn’t know if that’s really the right way to put it, but he has no better idea for how to express that, so he just nods. New Dom is probably the closest he can get, with his limited knowledge and vocabulary he has about the community.   
“Any previous experiences?” Kentarou asks and Kiyoomi shrugs.   
“Not like… full on scenes. A bit with a previous boyfriend, but pretty vanilla. Some hands tied to the bed and the likes. And of course the workshop by Yotsuba-san.”   
“Great. Then, let me just walk you through what I have planned. Yuki-chan, can you get everything ready?” 

Yukiko nods and walks over the the screen and starts setting up lighting. Tachibana seems to think for a moment about how to proceed, then he gestures to the pile of ropes and then to some hooks anchored to the ceiling.   
“Atsumu really likes ropes and we are working on a photography series about Shibari. I want to show the different steps, from just a few simple ties to a full suspension. Yukiko will take pictures along the way, of me tying him up and of Atsumu himself. Nothing sexual, I want these photos to be classy and not porn.”   
Kiyoomi can feel his throat go dry, glad his facemask hides most of his features. So there’s not much showing, hopefully he can keep his eagerness to himself. He doesn’t want to admit how arousing it is to imagine Miya, wrapped in ropes, held up by nothing else. Even though Tachibana has reassured him once again he won’t do anything sexual, the images his brain conjures, of Miya tied up does things to his dick. Kiyoomi doesn’t want to think about how a flull-flegded scene with Miya would affect him. 

“I’m ready”, Miya’s voice rips him straight from his thoughts. He’s softly closing the door to the foyer behind him and steps into the studio. He’s changed out of his clothes, is just wearing a soft and fluffy bathrobe. His hair is slightly damp and tousled and only now Kiyoomi realizes he just showered and that’s why he disappeared into the bathroom.   
“Very nice. Atsumu-kun, Sakusa-san will assist us today, so be good for him as well. Besides that, you already know the drill. Just pretend Yukiko isn’t here and focus on me and Sakusa.” Tachibana’s voice has shifted a bit, from the casual tone he used while talking to Kiyoomi to something harsher, more like a strict teacher than a casual acquaintance.   
“Yes, Sir”, Miya answers, that same stupidly soft and obedient tone in his voice.   
“Get out of that robe and come here.” 

Without a moment of hesistation, Miya slips out of the bathrobe. Underneath, he’s just wearing some simple black briefs. They do nothing to hide things, fit perfectly to Miya’s form and yeah… the bulge is quite obvious. 

“Atsumu, would you be okay with being naked for this?” Yukiko asks.   
“I think the photos would be a lot better then. If you aren’t I can always do some editing, so it’s fine.” Miya just shrugs.   
“Nothing new for me, so I am cool with that. But Omi-Omi, what about you?” 

Somehow, Kiyoomi should have expected it. Of course Miya won’t be fully clothed for this. But he didn’t think he would get to see him fully naked. In his thoughts, Miya had been wearing SOMETHING, maybe at least some underwear. But here he is, offering to get naked and before Kiyoomi can really think about it, his mouth has already acted.   
“Yeah… it’s fine with me”, he says and then Miya is stripping out of his underwear, standing there, completely naked. He has a nice dick. Thick, slightly curved, like he’d fit perfectly in Kiyoomi’s hand. Kiyoomi takes a deep breath, glad the room is big enough and there’s enough going on, so Miya probably won’t notice the way he’s affected. They are standing far enough apart. He’s twisting his fingers and even though Miya doesn’t notice, Tachibana does, and gives him a grin. 

“He’s pretty, isn’t he?” Tachibana’s voice is casual, conversational, as if he’s talking about the weather and not about a man with thighs to die for and a very inviting cock standing naked in an empty photography studio. Kiyoomi forces his lungs to stop gasping for air and he puts on his best mask.   
“Yeah, he looks good. But I think he’d look better with a bit less freedom of movement.”   
He’s surprised his voice comes out as calm and controlled as it does, wonders if anyone can hear the rapid thumping of his heart besides him. Tachibana nods and Kiyoomi’s eyes rest on Miya’s toned body. He looks good, objectively. Tall, broad shoulders, defined chest and abdomen, strong thighs. And the look on his face, surprised, eyes wide, lips open a bit, makes Kiyoomi shiver in anticipation. It’s obvious Miya has not expected that from him. And the knowledge at just how surprised he is makes Kiyoomi proud and maybe a little smug. He’s responsible for Miya’s surprised and anticipating face. It feels good.   
“Good idea, Sakusa-san… what do you think? I’m going to tie him up and you just pay attention. If you have any questions, just ask me or Yukiko.” 

She smiles and pats her camera, ready to capture everything.   
“Just watch and if you think something is worth capturing, tell me”, she suggests and starts to adjust some settings on the camera, taking a few test pictures.   
“I will”, Kiyoomi says. It feels a bit weird. Like he’s involved in the scene slowly unfolding, even though he’s not actually doing anything. He was anticipating to just sit there and watch, but here he is. Of course Tachibana is doing everything, Yukiko is taking the photos, but the way they act around him gives Kiyoomi the feeling he’s a part of the scene and not just a spectator. (Maybe his cock twitches in his jeans. Just maybe.) 

Tachibana starts with Miya’s hands, tying them together with a two-column-tie. Kiyoomi is somewhat proud he still remembers, recognizes, and he’s sure he could replicate it. Even if he wouldn’t be as quick and efficient with it as Tachibana. It’s impressive how quick he works, Kiyoomi thinks. It probably took him years to get to that point. The remainder of the rope gets attached to one of the ropes already set up, hooked through the rings in the ceiling and then, Miya is standing there, his body pulled upright by the rope holding his arms above his head. 

“What do you think, Sakusa-san?” Tachibana asks and Kiyoomi has to swallow. The way Miya’s body stretches to accommodate that position looks delicious. He takes in the long lean lines of his arms, muscles taut as Miya lets Tachibana tie him. Kiyoomi wants him to leave, wants to be the one doing this. He wants to touch and tease Miya, until he’s begging for more.   
“It suits him”, he says instead of what’s really running through his head. It does, and Kiyoomi can’t wait to see more. He just barely takes notice of the click of the camera, Yukiko already taking pictures, walking around, capturing the image in front of them from every angle. 

Tachibana leaves Miya like that for a moment and… fuck. Only now, Kiyoomi realizes Miya is hard, his cock stiff and hard between his legs. He’s enjoying that, a lot, obviously. Kiyoomi swallows, heat pooling in his gut. His jeans are almost uncomfortably tight. 

“Color?” Tachibana asks.   
Miya chokes out a rough “Green!”   
Kiyoomi can hear the shutter go off, once, twice, thrice and then Tachibana is holding the next piece of rope. With deft fingers, Miya’s chest gets wound in rope, a harness that looks infinitely more complex than the simple one Kiyoomi knows how to make. It has more rope, thicker lines running around the body, and Kiyoomi takes a moment to realize these differences are probably necessary. The end result, Tachibana said, should be suspension, so of course the ties are thicker, sturdier, more elaborate, when they should hold all of Miya’s weight. After all, they have to be strong and reliable enough to hold Miya’s probably eighty something kilograms without hurting him. He feels the need to reach into his pants and shifts his weight a bit, trying to find a more comfortable position. 

_Fuck._ Yeah, watching that scene turns him on. A lot. He really can’t deny it, watching with rapt attention how Miya’s upper body gets wrapped in rope, his chest framed, his shoulders. It looks amazing, really good and Kiyoomi desperately wants to know how that harness gets tied. He wants to see Miya like that, not in this nondescript studio, but in his apartment. Tied to a chair and crying. Oh god, his brain is running miles ahead of him, he doesn’t even know if he’s really into that. 

_Well, who are you joking?_ He thinks. There is no denying he’s enjoying this. His jeans are almost painfully tight by the time Tachibana has finished the harness. The thoughts of what he could do to Miya make his cock twitch in his pants. Yeah. He’s into this, no denying. Kiyoomi can’t tear his eyes away and his mouth is dry. Whe Yukiko moves to take some more pictures, he steps out of her way, tries to be as little a hindrance as possible. The new perspective he gains from that step to the side, though, makes his heart beat even faster, makes the lines of Miya’s body so much more pronounced in the low, perfectly placed light. Miya is hard, really hard by now, aroused and his dick is glistening with precum and when he realizes Kiyoomi is looking, he’s blushing. Blushing, biting on his lips, licking them… He looks absolutely debauched and Kiyoomi loves it.   
“Perfect, Atsumu-kun. You look wonderful like this… People will love to see you like this,” Tachibana says in a low, husky voice. Miya shivers and his cock twitches and Kiyoomi wonders how Miya would react to some touches. He buries his hands in the pockets of his jeans and subtly adjusts his own hard cock, so it’s a bit more comfortable. 

When Yukiko puts the camera down for a moment, Miya looks straight at Kiyoomi and he shivers. The desperation in Miya’s eyes is blatantly obvious and Kiyoomi breathes in hard. Miya isn’t satisfied with just this. Maybe… 

“Atsumu-kun, spread your legs.” Miya obliges, spreads his legs and… oh my god, Kiyoomi forgets how to breathe for a moment. Tachibana starts tying more rope around his thighs and hips, a waist harness coming together quickly, with lines of rope running through Miya’s crotch, framing his cock and Miya moans. He fucking _moans_ , as if the process of rough rope sliding against sensitive skin is everything he needs. Kiyoomi watches, enraptured with everything, as Tachibana ties the rope around Miya’s hips and thighs with nimble fingers and yeah, he’s turned on as fuck. He can’t deny that anymore and the need to just unzip his pants and jerk off becomes almost unbearable. Everything around him melts into one blurry picture, only him and Miya in focus. He swallows, his throat feeling dry. _Later tonight,_ he thinks. When he’s alone he can do whatever he wants and nobody can judge him. Nobody will know how much this affects him, nobody will know how many times he’ll jerk himself off to the memories of Miya like this. He wonders why the hell he ever agreed to this whole thing, but he’s also undeniably into it. Like, _really, really into it._ He enjoys it a lot. This picture of Atsumu like that will haunt him till the end of time. 

Time passes in some weird middle ground between too slow and too fast and he can hear the shutter going off a few times more, the rope enveloping Miya more and more and soon, there is something that looks like a full body harness on his body and Tachibana is looping more rope through the hooks in the ceiling.   
“Color?”, he asks, his voice still as calm and detached as before and Miya’y voice is rough and trembling as a “Green!” comes out and Kiyoomi can only agree.   
He never wants this to stop. 

  
“Sakusa-kun, what do you say… should we make him fly?” Tachibana asks and Kiyoomi can only nod. He doesn’t trust his voice at all. A sturdy cuff of rope around each ankle, some more rope in hooks and Kiyoomi forgets to breathe when Tachibana works his magic. Miya might be the one physically mid-air, but Kiyoomi feels like he’s loosing the ground under his feet. He doesn’t know if it is flying or falling, but a rush of neurotransmitters overwhelms his brain and he can only watch in rapt fascination. 

Miya’s body strains, muscles rippling against rope and Kiyoomi breathes in hard.   
“Color?”   
“Greengreengreen”, Miya rasps out, blinking rapidly and then Tachibana does… something, Kiyoomi is too distracted by Miya’s blissed out face to pay attention, and Miya is hovering in midair, only held up by the ropes around his body. 

“Like this?” Tachibana asks and Miya nods, his head falling down. He looks like he’s in heaven and Kiyoomi can’t help himself. His breath behind his mask goes fast and low and he can just barely resist the urge to pull down his fucking jeans and jerk off right here. Instead, though, he follows Tachibana’s directions, comes closer.   
“What do you think, Atsumu?” Tachibana asks, a hand gliding over the body hanging in the air. 

“Have you been good enough?”   
“Please, Sir.” Miya’s voice is trembling and Kiyoomi can’t hold himself back anymore. His arm is reaching out and his hand traces over the planes of Miya’s back cut up into smaller pieces by the rope.   
“What do you want, Atsumu-kun?” Tachibana asks, but Miya just lets out a moan. A moan, just from the hand on his back. Kiyoomi pulls back immediately, feeling like he’s burned himself from playing with fire. That’s so far away from what he expected when he agreed to come. If he had known just how explicit this is… he would have declined, wouldn’t he? 

(Who is he kidding? He wouldn’t have? He’s been horny for Miya since the workshop.) 

“Just… anything, please, Sirs, whatever you want.” Miya is begging, literally begging. And Kiyoomi is completely blown away, when Miya acknowledges his presence. Calls him Sir. It sends a shiver through his body and Tachibana is gripping Miya’s hair.   
“Atsumu-kun, Yukiko is going to take some photos. Be a good boy and look at the camera for me.”   
“Yes, Sir”, Atsumu rasps, his voice husky and trembling, and then Tachibana takes a step back, making room for Yukiko to take the pictures. His eyes stay carefully focused on Miya and Kiyoomi can see a pair of scissors in his hand, ready for any emergency that might arise. 

Kiyoomi does the same, tries to melt into the shadows besides the lighters. He has no interest in being in these pictures. He very much wants to see them later, though. Even though he probably doesn’t need them, the images from tonight will be burned in his brain forever. And he can’t deny it… he WILL jerk off to this later. Without Tachibana and his wife in the picture, probably. Pretending they don’t exist. Doing something like this to Miya, on his own terms, sounds like all of his wet dreams since he knew what wet dreams were combined. 

Yukiko walks around him, taking pictures of every angle, prompting Miya to look this way or that, and he obediently follows every command she gives him in her soft voice. When she finally sets down the camera and nods at her husband, Tachibana steps closer and gives Miya a pat on the head, like he’s an obedient dog. Miya lets out a gasp, almost a moan, as if this is exactly what he wanted. If he weren’t restrained like this, Kiyoomi thinks, he’d probably push against the touch.   
“Color?” he asks, his hand still resting on Miya’s head. His voice comes out soft, a bit shaky, but determined.   
“Green”, he answers and Tachibana delivers a single harsh blow against his ass. A reddish hue blooms over Miya’s ass and… fuck, Miya has just about the prettiest ass he’s ever seen. Toned, round, his glutes flexing under the rope and the slap. Tachibana steps away, Miya chokes out a sob, like he’s missing the feeling. 

Tachibana exchanges a few whispered voices with his wife and then he undoes a few knots and Miya is back on his feet. Most of his weight is still held up by the harness and his arms are still high above his head, but his feet are on the ground and he’s standing upright again.   
“You did well, Atsumu-kun”, Tachibana growls and the sharp smack of a slap to his ass sounds through the whole Studio. Miya whines, pushes back as far as his restraints allow him and Tachibana immediately withdraws his hand again. 

“Say, Atsumu-kun… should we untie you?”   
Instead of wanting to get out of his situation, like most people probably would want, Miya shakes his head, his eyes wide open, his tongue gliding over his lips and leaving a glistening wet trail. Faintly, Kiyoomi hears another row of clicks, Yukiko still here, still ready to capture every moment, and Tachibana spanks Miya again.   
“You’ve got such a nice ass”, he compliments and then gestures towards Kiyoomi, beckoning him to come closer.   
“Do you want a taste?” 

Like he’s remote controlled, without thinking about it, Kiyoomi steps closer, his eyes raking over Miya’s body, drinking in just how wrecked he already looks. Tachibana gives him a few tips, in hushed voices so Miya can’t hear and then, Kiyoomi steps closer and reaches out. His hand palms over Miya’s ass. It feels just as good as it looks, firm and round and his skin a bit warm. He squeezes, experimentally and Miya groans, his muscles straining against the rope to push against the hand.   
“Your color, Atsumu?” Tachibana asks, standing in front of Miya, a hand in his hair.   
“Greengreengreengreeenpleeeease”, Miya sobs and Kiyoomi takes that as a go. He pulls his hand back and delivers a sharp blow. His hand stings a bit, but it’s nothing against the wonderful feeling of glee as Miya chokes out a sound that encompasses both pain and pleasure. Tachibana is murmuring filth, sometimes sending encouraging glances to Kiyoomi, the camera going off in the background. He’s surely in a bunch of these pictures, Kiyoomi realizes, but he can’t bring himself to care. Instead, he is reveling in the feeling, he loves seeing Miya’s ass bloom red under his hands, loves the sounds spilling from his mouth. 

“Please, I… please, lemme… need to cum.” Miya is sobbing, his ass red, Tachibana’s hands still gripping his hair tightly, forcing him to look him in the eyes, and Kiyoomi delivers one last sharp swing to Miya’s ass, with all the force he can muster. For a moment, his handprint is white on his skin and then, red blooms over. He’s red and bruised and Kiyoomi is achingly hard.   
“Wonderful, you did great, Atsumu”, Tachibana says. Kiyoomi steps back, out of view again and it’s just Miya again, and Yukiko walking around and taking pictures of him from every angle. The rope against skin, Miya’s face streaked with tears and still this euphoric look in his eyes, his ass bruised and red. After what feels like an eternity, but probably is just a short moment, she puts the camera down and moves away, making room for her husband again. Tachibana steps close, buries his hand in Miya’s hair and pulls his head back.   
“Do you want to come? Do you think you deserved that?” he asks and Kiyoomi shivers. There are things he can still explain with curiousity. The burning need to see Miya’s face during orgasm is not one of them.   
“please, need ta…” 

“Wrong answer”, Tachibana cuts him off and Miya’s body sinks into the ropes in defeat.   
“You don’t need anything but take what we give you. I don’t think you deserve to come.”   
A reluctant whine comes out of Miya’s mouth and Kiyoomi can’t help but feel a giddy sense of satisfaction. Tachibana starts loosening the ropes, starthing with Miya’s hands still extended over his head. When he loosens them, Miya immediately starts to move them. 

Meanwhile, Yukiko starts shutting down the studio lights, leaving just the warm, yellow light from the normal lamps in the room.   
“Sakusa-kun, can you get the bag over there?” Tachibana asks and points to a bag standing close to the table nearby. Kiyoomi follows his instructions, takes the bag and comes closer, puts it down next to Tachibana. Meanwhile, Miya is already freed from the hooks on the ceiling, his hands untied. He pulls out a water bottle first and lets Miya drink a few sips, then quickly continues undoing the remaining lengths of rope. Miya seems to come down from whatever endorphin high he was on fairly quickly, his erection waning away, his body visibly relaxing. Tachibana wraps him in the fluffy bathrobe again and directs him to the front room and the small sofa there.   
“Sakusa-kun, would you stay with him for a while? Make sure he drinks something and just call if something happens. We are looking through the photos. If you are in any, do you want us to delete them?”   
Kiyoomi nods and settles down onto the sofa next to Miya, who’s wrapped up in the robe, head resting against the pillows. 

“That was… somethin’” he murmurs, eyes closed.   
“Yeah… I didn’t expect that”, Kiyoomi answers and, on instinct, reaches out to rest his hand on Miya’s shoulder. He gives it a light squeeze and Miya buries his face deeper in the pillow.   
“Can ya just… stay here for a few minutes? Then I’ll go shower and I can take ya home?” 

Kiyoomi has no intention of leaving him, so he nods. They wait in silence and Kiyoomi finds his own body cooling down as well. Only now, the raging emotions waning, he realises just how much that scene has done to him. That has been his first real scene and he was utterly unprepared for being a part of it. He had expected watching, but Tachibana’s invitation to join – no matter how insignificant in the big picture of the scene - had been too enticing to pass. 

“Ne, Omi-Omi… whaddaya thinkin’?” Miya’s voice is regaining his usual lilt again, slowly returning to normal and his eyes are focused and bright again. 

Kiyoomi wonders how out of his comfort zone the scene had been for him. Has he done things like this often? Is this something normal for him?   
“It was… educational”, he says, can’t keep the irony at bay. It was educational, in some way. But mostly, it got him really turned on and not just because of the naked body in the room. The feeling of having someone under control, of making them feel whatever he wants them to feel… he wants a repeat of that, soon, desperately. Miya laughs and gives him a soft bump against his shoulder.   
“Ah, sorry…” he apologizes immediately, but Kiyoomi shakes his head.   
“It’s fine… I can handle your touches, I think.” 

Miya smiles, still looking a bit dopey.   
“So ya liked it?” he asks and Kiyoomi nods. It was… an experience. And yes… I liked it. As did you.”   
“Ah, but I already knew I like that. Tachibana’s really good. But ya did well, too.” 

Miya closes his eyes, curls deeper into the pillows on the sofa and Kiyoomi is infinitely grateful for the mask on his face and the fact Miya’s eyes are closed.   
“Didn’t think so, but that mask does things… makes ya unapproachable and that’s really really nice. Ya make a fine dom.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains depictions of a mildly sexual scene occurring between a person in their mid-20s and a couple in their late 30s. They aren't in a romantic relationship, no explicitly sexual activities occur and all participants are consenting adults and there are no power dynamics outside of the pre-negotiated VOLUNTARY submission on Atsumu's part. Tachibana is an experienced dom and what exactly his (and by extension, his wife's) relationship with Atsumu is, is not explicitly stated here, but Atsumu entered it willingly, voluntarily, and on his own terms, and, most importantly: As a grown man himself. If this dynamic makes you uncomfortable, feel free to stop reading here.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you had fun with these two dorks.  
> Feel free to leave your thoughts in the comments, I appreciate all kinds of feedback. 
> 
> I won't have a set upload schedule, I'm incredibly bad at sticking to them. New chapters will be released when I'm done with them. I am very hyped to continue writing this, though. Right now I am estimating something between 5 and 10 chapters, but we'll see how the story grows.


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